


Bitten

by MellodramaticLawliet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Zombie Apocalypse, hardcore pining, klance, klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-03 13:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellodramaticLawliet/pseuds/MellodramaticLawliet
Summary: "Were you bitten?" Keith demanded, wrapping one arm around Lance's shoulders tightly while his other hand buried itself in his hair, "Lance. Were you bitten?""No." Lance's grip on Keith tightened as his shivers began to subside, and Keith breathed a sigh of relief, "What about you?""No." Keith lied into Lance's neck as he numbly tried to block out the sharp throbbing in his forearm, "I'm fine."





	1. We Are a Good Team

“The door the door the door! _Get the door!”_ Keith screamed as he slammed the window down, wincing as three disembodied hands hit the ground by his feet. The zombies on the fire escape pounded against the glass, but luckily for Keith and Lance this city had seen enough hurricanes that each sky scraper came equipped with storm windows.

Keith wheeled around in time to watch as Lance vaulted over a desk and managed to kick the door shut just as the hoard of zombies that chased them up the stairs crashed into it from the other side.

“Thanks,” Keith sighed and slid down the nearest wall in exhaustion, “though maybe next time it wouldn’t have been such a close call if you would cut it out with the acrobatics.”

Lance shot him a tired glare and slumped into an office chair, “The quickest way to the door was over the desk. Excuse me if my legs are longer than yours.”

He snatched up a roll of tape from the desk next to him and wrapped it around where his sneaker had begun to tear. Keith made a mental note to force the group to stop by an abandoned Payless later; Lance couldn’t be running around in cheap sneakers in the middle of the god damn apocalypse.

At the moment however, they were trapped somewhere on the sixth floor of an abandoned office building with zombies at every prevalent exit. They had barricaded themselves in the, rather large, office of someone by the name of Brian Granvile.

Keith dubiously eyed the mahogany desk and expensive computer monitor. Six months ago that stuff would have mattered. It would’ve been a relatively accurate measurement of wealth and success; now, these luxuries were nothing. Utterly useless. Brian Granvile was probably dead, or else _undead_ , and his office was being used by two scruffy teenagers currently fighting for their lives.

What a world.

“Well this is a disaster.” Keith shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, trying not to think about how gross and sweaty he was, and what he wouldn’t do for a fucking shower, “What, no witty comments, Sharpshooter? Any ideas to get us out of this mess?”

Lance simply glared at him and went back to taping up his shoes; Keith tried not to show how much Lance’s silence hurt. He missed his easy smile and the raucous, undone way he used to laugh.

Keith even missed the way he could start fights with a single word. Perhaps he had been a little too desperate for Lance’s attention back then, but anything was better than this grim and gloomy stranger that bore his appearance.

Most people had lost their lives when the apocalypse hit, and anyone who didn’t lost their family, their friends, and pretty much everyone they had known. Keith was lucky enough to have held on to some of the people from his previous life, though some days he wondered if he actually _had_ lost a few of them the day the world turned.

He quickly glanced away as Lance’s eyes met his, and Keith realized he'd been staring. He studied the two exits carefully, and decided that the fire escape would be their best bet. The main stairs were packed, and at least on the fire escape they would be forced to attack in single file.

He was suddenly glad he had agreed to come along on this supply run. Lance had volunteered, and Shiro immediately pushed Keith to accompany him. His sword and Lance’s handguns made a good fighting combination, so it made sense strategically.

On the other hand, Keith knew that Shiro always put them together in the hopes that they would resolve their differences, but as the days dragged on Keith could tell he was beginning to lose hope that that would ever happen.

Keith had lost hope long ago, but the least he could do was keep Lance alive. Lance was great with strategies, and long range combat, but once a hoard got within ten feet he needed backup to keep them at bay.

Keith checked his watch. It was nearly an hour past the latest time they had agreed to be back at camp.

“Lance.” Keith groaned as he twisted his shoulders and felt his spine pop, “We have to move, the others are probably getting worried.”

Lance nodded and stood, testing out his newly repaired shoe. His expression told Keith it wasn’t the best fix, but it would last them the trip back.

“Come on Cinderella, we’ll get you new shoes in the morning.” Keith attempted a halfhearted joke and felt the knot in his heart loosen as Lance bit back a smirk.

“Who’re you calling Cinderella? I’m not the one who lost his sneaker in the middle of a track meet.”

“I still beat your time.” Keith smirked at him and was gifted with a rare laugh from Lance.

“If we get out of here, I want a rematch.”

Keith lifted himself off the floor and stretched his arms, “You’re on.”

He hoisted their bag of supplies over his shoulder and crossed to the window, getting a firm grip on the handle, and glancing back at Lance who stood a good ten feet back, both handguns at the ready.

In spite of the situation, Keith took a second to memorize the way Lance looked in that moment.

His face was set in a grim expression; everything about the set of his lips and the hardness of his eyes told a story of loss that Keith was all too familiar with.

His old green jacket had more rips and stitches than Keith could count, but he couldn’t really blame Lance for being sentimental; not when he himself still clung to his old red leather jacket.

His hands were steady, as they always were. His handguns had become like an extension of each arm, and ever since they'd found him a pair of silencers, Lance had become the deadliest long range member of their team.

His taped up shoe made Keith want to laugh, but if this was going to be the last clear sight he had of Lance - and it could very well be - Keith would prefer to keep Lance from ruining the moment by glaring at him.

With a sigh, Keith readied himself, and on the count of three, threw open the window.

Lance made quick work of the five zombies on the landing, and Keith noticed with slight pride that he had managed to peg each one directly in right eye socket. "Cold" and "efficiently precise," were words that could be used to describe the way Lance fought nowadays; a far cry from the goofball he had once been.

Without hesitating, Keith vaulted over the sill and began to hack at the zombies crowding the stairs in their path to the pavement. Lance kept his back pressed to Keith’s and wiped out the threat from behind, occasionally aiming over the railing at the stragglers shuffling toward the base of the stairs below them.

It took them barely five minutes to make it to the ground; a remarkable feat for anyone other than them, though unfortunately, their efforts had drawn an unwelcome crowd.

The two of them took off running; Lance shot blindly over his shoulder, but Keith couldn’t afford to focus on anything other than keeping up as he lugged the bag of supplies.

His heart pounded and his muscles ached, but he still managed to keep pace as they sprinted for the nearest abandoned car. Keith thanked his lucky star as he noticed the back window open and launched the bag inside, diving in after it.

Lance slid in after him and braced himself against the far door, guns smoking as he kept the zombies away from the car long enough for Keith to hotwire it.

They both let out a victorious whoop as the engine sputtered to life, and Keith floored the gas pedal. The car bounced as they ran over a crawler, but Keith didn’t let up as the speedometer quickly climbed.

Lance clambered into the passenger seat and immediately rolled down his window, sticking out a hand to feel the wind as they sped in the direction of the highway.

“You’re going to let the AC out.” Keith complained, though he found himself grinning.

“Come on Keith,” Lance turned to him, his infamous thousand watt grin back in place, “Live a little!”

Keith’s heart skipped a beat as he grinned back and thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, his Lance was still alive.


	2. Rover the Friendly Zombie

As they sped out of the city, Keith observed Lance through the corner of his eye. He'd craned his neck to watch as the city slowly shrank away behind them, and only when Keith had to swerve quickly around a parked car did he turn back to the front.

"Watch the road, would you?"

Keith grit his teeth, knowing he would never win that argument; he couldn't exactly tell Lance that _he_ was the reason for his bad driving.

The rest of the ride was carried out in stagnant silence, and Keith wondered why, after nearly four months of this, it was still weird to hear nothing come out of Lance's mouth.

Their camp was set up a couple miles away from the city, just close enough that they could get supplies and go out searching, but far enough that they were relatively safe from the hoards that had slowly been leaking into the suburbs.

Keith and Lance followed the highway until they reached about a quarter mile away from camp and ditched the car just in case. The dusty old sedan hadn't been used in nearly a year, and it certainly sounded like it. The last thing they needed was to attract every zombie in a quarter mile radius.

They picked their way along the edge of the highway for a stretch until they came upon one of Pidge's markers to help lead them back.

The walk through the woods was relatively short, as most of it had been gutted for the parallel highways that now lay cracked from disuse. Keith wondered idly why there was ever a need for two highways going to and from the same places, but quickly remembered that the world hadn't always been this empty.

After what seemed like forever walking in silence, they finally came to the bottom of the hill next to where their group had set up shop, and Keith sighed in relief, meeting Lance's eye.

Lance's expression was complicated, but before Keith could muster up the wherewithal to ask, they heard a rustling noise to their left, and a zombie burst out of one of the bushes.

"Arg!" Lance stumbled back quickly, his gun in the air before Keith could even blink.

"Don't shoot!" Pidge came tearing through the trees and yanked on the dog chain around the zombie's neck, pulling it back away from Keith and Lance.

"Damnit Pidge!" Lance clicked the safety on his gun and jammed it back in his thigh holster, "A little warning next time!"

"Sorry," Pidge adjusted their glasses and looped the chain around the nearest tree, securing it before walking over to them, "You're almost two hours late, where were you guys? Shiro's been stress training again."

"Yeah yeah," Keith walked over to them, as Lance marched away up the hill, carefully skirting a wide circle around the tethered zombie, "we got caught up. I've got plenty of supplies though." He patted the bag around his shoulder.

"Oh wonderful." Pidge seemed relieved, and Keith wondered if Shiro hadn't been the only one stressing, "What's Lance's deal?"

They both turned to watch him trudge up the hill alone, pausing once to shuck off his destroyed sneaker in annoyance before carrying on with one shoe.

Keith shrugged; worry eating away at the pit in his stomach, "Long day." Pidge shot him a knowing look and opened their mouth as if to comment and Keith quickly gestured to the tethered zombie, "I have to ask though, what's with the new pet?"

"Oh!" Pidge's eyes lit up, "Remember that new formula I was tinkering with?"

Keith nodded. Pidge had been determined to find a cure for zombie-ism ever since they'd lost their brother; Matt had been a part of the group when the first wave hit, though he'd been bitten trying to save Shiro from a hoard.

None of them had been able to bring themselves to shoot him so Matt turned, and Pidge vowed they would come back for him once they found the cure.

They'd been trying out various formulas ever since, but the best result they'd managed was to make one zombie vomit it's last meal; which was luckily just a squirrel, but still, Keith would never be able to forget the sight, smell, and most disgustingly the _sound_ of half digested squirrel being retched up by a dead person.

"Well I'm getting closer. Much closer." Pidge gestured to the zombie behind them, "That's Rover, my new formula made him pretty docile. He's not exactly better, or, you know, _not_ dead, but he hasn't tried to bite anyone in over an hour, so I guess it's a start."

Keith hummed in agreement. With their limited supplies, and considering they operated out of an RV parked on the edge of the woods, it was a miracle Pidge had even gotten that far.

"Wow, Pidge that's amazing! You're so smart, and intelligent, I wish I was more like you!"

Keith raised an eyebrow at them, "I don't sound anything like that."

"No but you could show a _little_ more enthusiasm." Pidge folded their arms, "I just made a friendly zombie. It's pretty cool."

"Yeah, sorry I just…" Keith trailed off and bit his lip.

"I know," Pidge sighed, "you still think we can find the lab."

"It's out there Pidge," Keith frowned, "There's explicit evidence pointing to the lab's existence."

"I know that, you dumb cryptid." Pidge shook their head, "I've seen your crazy board. I just don't think we're going to find it before-"

They didn't finish their sentence, but Keith knew they were going to say "before one of us is bitten."

"Hey." Keith put a hand on their shoulder, "that won't happen anytime soon. Besides, we've got you to bring us back, right?"

Pidge snorted, "You're starting to sound like Shiro."

"Yeah yeah." Keith brushed off the compliment as though it didn't mean the world to him, and began to lead the way back up the hill, "Speaking of, he's not mad, is he?"

"Shiro? Mad?" Pidge shrugged, "He's more worried if anything. Hunk's anxiety's been kind of rubbing off on him, and it doesn't help that I brought another walker into camp, especially after the last one." They both shivered, remembering the puked up squirrel parts. Keith could safely say that he had never wondered what the contents of a zombie's stomach looked like, and now he wished he didn't know.

As the cars came into view parked in a small clearing, Keith sighed in relief. It wasn't exactly home sweet home, but after spending six consecutive months in the same stuffy RV it was about as close as he was going to get.

"Shiro set up a target in the woods over there," Pidge pointed, "You should probably go say hi before he starts aiming at himself."

Keith nodded and handed them the bag of supplies before heading off in the direction they'd indicated. Sure enough, he found Shiro lining up the last bolt in his quiver. The beaten up old target was peppered with crossbow bolts, and Keith immediately felt guilty for making him worry.

"Hey Shiro."

Shiro startled and turned around, relief apparent in his expression, "Keith, thank god. Is Lance with you?"

"Yeah." Keith nodded, "He's fine, just a little tired, we had a long day."

Shiro raised a knowing eyebrow at him, "Are you two still not getting along?"

Why did everyone keep giving him that look?

"That's not why we were late." Keith shot him a sour look and sat down heavily on a nearby rock, relenting when Shiro simply continued to stare at him in disbelief, "He _is_ still acting strange though. He hasn't called me "Mullet" in over a month."

Shiro sighed and sat down beside him, tucking his crossbow between his legs and placing a hand on Keith's shoulder like he used to when Keith was a kid, "Lance has been through just as much as we have, possibly even more. You know he doesn't talk about the time before they found us. When he and Hunk were on their own."

"Yeah but the rest of us haven't changed," Keith frowned, "Not that much anyway."

"Some people react differently to traumatic experiences."

"I know." Keith folded his arms around his knees and rested his chin on top of them, "I just miss the old Lance."

Shiro shrugged, "Is it such a bad thing that he grew up?"

"He didn't grow up, he got… cold."

Shiro glanced down and fiddled with the string on his crossbow, unsure what to say to that. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before they heard footsteps sounding toward them from the camp. Keith tensed up, his hand drifting toward his sword automatically, even though he recognized Pidge's light tread.

"Dinner time." They nudged Shiro with their foot, "Hunk sent me to get you two."

Shiro chuckled as Keith's stomach growled, and moved to collect his bolts from the old target. The smell of Hunk's stew wafted through the woods, and the warning bells in Keith's mind were muffled by the ache in his stomach. Who cared if the zombies could smell them? Hunk's cooking was worth it.

After Shiro had collected his weapons, they followed Pidge back and were dismayed to find that Rover had been relocated closer to camp. "Uh, Pidge?" Shiro frowned, "Are you sure it's safe to keep the zombie-"

"Rover."

"Right. Are you sure it's safe to keep _Rover_ this close to camp? What if he starts going crazy?"

"The dog chain should hold him." Pidge shrugged nonchalantly and helped themself to a bowl of the mouth watering stew Hunk had managed to whip up out of deer meat and canned vegetables.

Keith and Shiro exchanged a glance, but decided not to argue. Pidge could be very stubborn when they wanted to be, and their experiments were the one thing that Pidge never compromised on.

Keith glanced over to where Lance was sitting in his blue fold out chair, staring into the fire with a neutral expression. Keith held back a sigh as he helped himself to dinner.

Another time Lance would be happily chatting and cracking bad jokes to anyone who would listen. A year ago, Keith would have given anything for Lance to be quiet for a day, but now that he was faced with a silent and gloomy Lance, Keith wasn't sure why the idea had ever appealed to him in the first place.

Dinner was quiet as everyone scarfed down their meal, and Hunk turned to thank Keith for getting him supplies. Keith waited for Lance's inevitable protest that he had been on the supply run too, and why did Keith get all the credit? But it never came, and Keith halfheartedly mentioned to Hunk that he'd had help.

"So." Shiro sat forward once they had all finished eating, "We've searched all over Orlando, and the lab doesn't seem to be here. All of the evidence points toward Florida, and Keith seems pretty sure it's in or at least nearby a large city, so I think we should try Tampa next."

"Yes!" Pidge sat up excitedly, "we should definitely check out Tampa. The Lightning's hockey arena has a nine foot Tesla coil."

"You are _not_ electrocuting a zombie back to life like Dr. Frankenstein." Hunk shook his head, "No way will I be a part of that."

"Fine, but I'll need help getting it off the ceiling."

"The ceiling?!"

"No Tesla coils." Shiro shook his head, "The zombie apocalypse is dangerous enough without adding lightning to the mix."

"But Shiro!" Pidge looked crestfallen.

Shiro sighed, "We need to focus our efforts on finding the lab."

"Oh yeah, right, the _lab."_ Lance snorted from across the fire, "The mysterious place based on Keith's crazy conspiracy theories that may or may not exist, that may or may not have been searching for a cure, that may or may not even be possible. How could I forget when that's all you two talk about."

"Lance." Hunk frowned.

Lance glanced at him and sighed, standing from his chair, "Thanks for the meal, Hunk. I think I'm going to hit the hay a little early."

"Night…" Pidge replied perplexedly, before turning to the rest of them once the RV door slammed shut behind him, "Some "long day" huh? His attitude keeps getting worse."

Keith stared after him, worrying at his bottom lip, and Hunk replied, "He's been through a lot. We all have, he's just taking it harder than the rest of us."

"I'll say." Pidge muttered, "He better not have taken the couch again, I don't want to deal with Hunk's kicking."

"I get nightmares!"

Luckily for them, the RV was a deluxe camper with a bed, a sofa bed, and a couch. Most nights Keith and Shiro shared the bed, while Hunk and Lance shared the pullout and Pidge claimed the couch.

Hunk yawned and stretched his arms above his head, "I think I'm going to get to bed too."

Shiro nodded, "That's a good idea. We're going to have to get up early to stock up on supplies before we set out for Tampa."

They all groaned at the prospect. That was one aspect of the apocalypse Keith hadn't been expecting; the fact that he still had to wake up early even if he didn't have work or school.

Tiredly, Keith climbed the steps into the RV and passed Lance - spread out on the couch - on his way to the back bedroom. Keith could have sworn he saw Lance's head turn as he passed, but Keith was too exhausted and emotionally drained to look too much into it.

The next morning he volunteered to drive the truck carrying Pidge's supplies while everyone else went with Shiro in the RV. To his immense surprise, just as they were about to leave the passenger door opened, and Lance hopped inside. He nonchalantly buckled himself in and braced his elbow on the windowsill, his chin resting on his fist.

After a moment of silence, Lance turned to him and nodded at the key expectantly, "Aren't you going to drive?"

"Yeah." Keith blinked and turned the ignition, tailing the RV closely as Shiro pulled carefully out of the clearing, "I'm just surprised you chose to ride with me."

Lance snorted, "Don't let it get to your head, Mullet. Pidge and I got into a fight because Rover tried to bite me and I stabbed him in the eye. Shiro suggested I "take some time to cool off.""

Keith momentarily brightened at the old nickname, before immediately reassessing his priorities, "Look, you can ride with me as long as you don't start singing."

Lance actually didn't have a bad voice, and if he were to be honest, Keith rather liked hearing him sing; but it was the principle of the matter.

"Well you're in luck because I'm not exactly in the mood."

Keith wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so he simply drove on in silence until they reached the city and Shiro's voice sounded over the walkie-talkies, "Shiro to Keith and Lance, there's a grocery store up ahead I think we're going to hit for food, could you guys find a pharmacy? Pidge says we're low on aspirin and –"

He went on to name a few more medicines and other compounds Pidge used for their experiments, and Keith gestured for Lance to get the pen and paper out from the glove compartment.

"Mhm. Okay. Yep." Keith nodded as he recognized a few of the items on the list from previous supply runs, "We'll meet you back here in an hour or two. Yeah, Shiro, we'll try not to be late this time."

Keith rolled his eyes at Lance, earning himself a half smirk in return, and decided it was better than nothing. They managed to find a pharmacy only a block or two away, and Keith waited as Lance quickly attached the silencers to his guns and checked the number of bullets in each clip, grumbling about needing more.

Keith felt unprepared in comparison, with just his old katana. It wasn't much, but it was a relic from his heritage; even if the culture from which his heritage originated didn't technically exist anymore. Not to mention it could slice through zombies like a hot knife through butter.

Surprisingly, the pharmacy only had three and a half zombies wandering about - counting the decayed crawler behind the counter - and Keith and Lance quickly dispatched them. When they managed to locate the majority of the items on their list, Keith began to feel as if luck was actually on their side for once.

As they were loading the supplies into the back of the truck, Keith noticed a Payless shoe store about three shops down from them.

"Hey." Keith nudged Lance's shoulder and gestured to the store. Lance glanced over and sighed, but Keith refused to get into the car until he relented, even when Lance protested that he was tired and wanted to conserve bullets.

"It's eleven thirty in the morning, and your ratty ass sneakers almost got us killed yesterday. Go steal a new pair."

Lance sighed and peeled himself from the leather seat, grumbling about Keith being his mother, and Keith wondered if he and Lance would ever truly argue again.

"Is it even stealing if the owner's dead?" Lance asked as he picked the lock on the door, and Keith shrugged amusedly.

"I suppose not."

They made their way carefully to the back of the store, Lance's guns and Keith's sword at the ready, but they didn't encounter anything living, dead, nor undead. So they slowly relaxed, and Lance began to shop around, some of his old enthusiasm showing through.

"Now be honest, do these shoes make my ankles look fat?"

He had found a pair of thick combat boots, and Keith was relieved that Lance had finally taken his advice and ditched sneakers altogether.

"I can't see your ankles." Keith raised an eyebrow at him, "They're boots."

Lance rolled his eyes and tightened the laces, "I don't know why I even bother with you."

"Let's check in back for something for Pidge, they've been wearing the same sneakers around for a while too." Keith suggested, and Lance rolled his eyes as he followed him to the back.

"I don't understand what you have against sneakers, they're better for running than boots, and it's _much_ easier to wash blood out of them."

"They don't provide nearly as much protection," Keith rolled his eyes and tried the door, shoving with his shoulder when it proved difficult, "besides, they're much sturdier and they last longer." With a grunt, he threw open the door, and Keith's heart stopped as he met the dead stare of a dozen or so zombies.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Keith grabbed Lance's arm and sprinted for the front, trying to ignore the sound of rapid shuffling behind them. Keith and Lance burst through the door but were met on the outside by another six walkers, and Keith felt his heart pounding as they were backed up against the stone wall just outside the store.

Lance's guns were already firing, and Keith glanced behind them as the hoard closed in. The wall was too high, which meant no escape from behind, and he could see a few more zombies shambling toward them from down the street.

He grit his teeth as the first one came within striking range and swiftly beheaded it, barely hesitating as he moved on to the next one. The zombies had formed a semicircle around them, and unlike yesterday on the fire escape, Keith and Lance were each made to fight off at least three at once.

They had tried to stay back to back at first but were quickly separated, and Keith fought tooth and nail to get to Lance, who had cleared a good five foot radius around himself, but was rapidly being overwhelmed. Moments later, Keith watched as Lance's eyes widened in horror, his guns clicking emptily. He had used up all his bullets.

"Keith!" Lance shouted desperately as he hurried backward from the hoard rapidly closing in on him, pulling out a small knife from his belt.

"Lance!" He _screamed_ as his view of Lance was obscured, and Keith saw red as his instincts took over.

The next thing he knew he was standing in a puddle of zombie gore, his chest heaving as the sudden silence rang deafening in his ears. Lance stood with his back to the wall, his eyes wide and wild, and a streak of blood smeared on his cheek. Keith stumbled toward him, nearly tripping over the bodies littering the sidewalk, reaching desperately for Lance's face.

"Not mine. Not mine." Lance mumbled over and over as he wrapped his arms around him, and Keith could feel him shaking out of either shock or relief, possibly both.

"Were you bitten?" Keith demanded, wrapping one arm around Lance's shoulders tightly while his other hand buried itself in his hair, "Lance. _Were you bitten?_ "

"No." Lance's grip on Keith tightened as his shivers began to subside, and Keith breathed a sigh of relief, "What about you?"

"No." Keith lied into Lance's neck as he numbly tried to block out the sharp throbbing in his forearm, "I'm fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the second installment! If you would like, please leave a comment down below; anything you liked, didn't like, want to see later on... ideas, suggestions, and constructive criticism are always welcome!


	3. Options

"No, no, no, no…This isn't happening, this isn't happening… Damnit Keith!" Lance punched the steering wheel as they sped back to where the others were waiting, still blissfully clueless as to what had just happened.

It'd taken him only a couple minutes to notice the bite on Keith's arm, and Keith was surprised to see how badly he was taking the whole situation. He had shouted at the sky in Spanish for a solid two minutes, and Keith was fairly certain he had been on the verge of tears, but the noise drew a fresh hoard, and Lance had all but thrown Keith into the passenger seat of the truck.

Keith winced as the horn blared, and leaned up from where he had been sifting through the glove box for medical supplies, glancing through the windows worriedly, "Lance, shhh-"

"What does it matter!?" Lance shouted, his expression ferocious, "What does it fucking matter, Keith? You're already _bitten!_ "

"You're not." Keith muttered, continuing to search the glove box. His arm was bleeding all over, and Keith knew firsthand how hard it was to get blood stains out of car seats. He eventually managed to locate a roll of ace bandage and unwound a decent portion of it, "Hey could you pull over and help me with this really quick?"

"How are you so calm right now!?" Lance glanced over at him, his voice cracking in stress and disbelief.

Keith shrugged, wincing as the bite continued to ooze blood and what he assumed to be pus; the ragged edges stung as he prodded at the swollen skin around it. The wound itself was much smaller than he thought it would be, and it was hard to imagine that such a small thing was going to put a permanent end to his life.

Keith wasn't really one to overreact in the first place, but it had all happened so quickly, and he knew deep down that his mind hadn't yet managed to catch up and come to terms.

He didn't want to think about what would happen when it did; but for the mean time, he was going to take advantage of the strange numbness that had spread through him, and go about this in the most rational way he could manage. Lance, however, was not helping the situation.

"Fine," Keith grumbled, "I'll do it myself."

He began to tie a sloppy tourniquet around his upper arm, and Lance sighed in exasperation, yanking the truck over to the curb and taking the ends of the bandage from Keith's hands, "You know, Pidge or Hunk could probably do this way better than either of us."

Keith watched Lance's expression as he concentrated on the tourniquet, and marveled at how long his eyelashes were. And the way his crystal blue eyes almost seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. And how nice his skin looked, even though Keith knew the extent to which Lance went to keep it that way…

Keith realized with a start that he was cataloging Lance's facial features, and hurriedly turned his eyes back to his arm. There was no need to memorize the way Lance looked. He would find a way out of this.

Lance's hands were trembling and Keith thought bemusedly that it was a wonder how Lance could drive so straight despite this. He didn't realize he had said that out loud until he felt Lance's hands freeze on his arm.

"You're in shock." Keith glanced back up at Lance's face, which was frozen in a mixture of horror and fear, "That's why you're so calm. Your brain went into shock."

Keith simply continued to stare at him, suddenly at a loss as to how to respond. His whole body felt cold, and the strange numbness had taken over his ability to feel afraid; he was only vaguely aware that his own hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Damnit damnit _damnit_." Lance bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and turned back to the wheel, peeling away from the curb as fast as the speedometer would allow.

"Why did you even park at the curb?" Keith remarked, "It's not like there's any traffic."

Lance didn't answer and Keith realized he was babbling. The tense atmosphere was starting to rev up his numb nerves, and for some reason, saying whatever popped into his head just to fill the silence felt better than just sitting there doing nothing. He wondered if that was why Lance always used to babble on and on.

He said as much and Lance laughed humorlessly, shooting him an anxious look. A minute later Lance pulled to a screeching halt behind the RV and snatched up the walkie-talkie, "Shiro! Get the medical supplies ready!"

He leapt from the truck and had Keith's door open before Keith could even move, "Do you," Lance hesitated, "Do you want me to carry you?"

Keith frowned at him and Lance sighed, instead settling for slipping an arm around his waist, which Keith figured was meant to comfort him, though the gesture was missed as the door to the RV slammed open, and Hunk and Shiro ran out to them.

"What happe- OH MY GOD!" Hunk inhaled sharply when he caught sight of Keith's arm, and Shiro looked as if the ground had been pulled from beneath him.

"How did this happen!?"

Keith opened his mouth to reply, but Lance cut him off, "We got cornered, I'll explain later, just help me get him inside!"

Shiro moved to help them, and Keith felt a sudden irrational burst of anger, "Enough!"

Shiro and Lance flinched away from him as if he were a wounded animal, and Keith's temper flared again, "I can walk myself, just get off of me."

He stormed up the steps to the RV, and threw himself onto the couch inside, trying to fold his arms before remembering the bite and scowling to himself. Pidge was running back and forth with supplies, which they dumped on the couch beside him, and immediately set to wrapping up his arm, tsk-ing at the badly tied tourniquet.

"What, you're not going to ask?" Keith scowled at them, and Pidge gave him an unamused glare.

"Keith, I get that you're going through the anger stage of grief, but there's no need to take it out on everyone else."

Keith blinked, momentarily taken aback by this, but was distracted by Shiro, Lance, and Hunk, who had followed him into the RV and were currently staring at him like he was on death row. He realized belatedly that he kind of _was_ on death row, but he was still deep enough in the grips of the denial stage that his brain wouldn't even go in the vicinity of that notion.

"Keith-"

"No, Shiro," Keith cut him off impatiently, not wanting to hear whatever motivational bullshit he was about to spout, "let's talk options, what are we going to do?"

"Cut the arm off." Lance blurted out, and everyone else turned to stare at him.

Shiro winced, "Are we sure that's the best idea?" He was using his dad voice, but Keith knew that he was thinking of his own prosthetic arm, "that's Keith's sword arm, he'd be defenseless without it."

Keith scoffed, offended by the notion of being considered defenseless.

Lance narrowed his eyes at Shiro, "I'm just saying-"

"We know what you're saying, Lance," Hunk cut him off, "but this is his _arm_ we're talking about here…"

"Yeah exactly!" Lance glared at Hunk, which was the first time in Keith's memory that Lance had ever spoken against Hunk, "It's his arm or his life, so I say we cut it off!"

"That's not how it works!" Pidge slammed their fist on the table to get their attention, "This isn't like in the movies. You can't just chop off a person's arm with no proper medical knowledge or tools and expect them to live. We could cause an embolism or a clot, he could get an infection, not to mention hypovolemic shock-"

"He's already in shock," Lance protested, "Look at him!"

Keith glanced down at himself and only then did he notice that his whole body was shaking. _Oh._ He thought belatedly. He was suddenly aware of his heart pounding against his ribcage, and he fought to keep himself from hyperventilating, swallowing down the sudden overwhelming wave of anxiety crawling up his throat.

He was going to die.

The others continued their argument, unaware of Keith's sudden epiphany, and Pidge shook their head adamantly, "This just proves my point, there's a difference between being _shocked_ , and being _in shock._ None of us have enough medical knowledge to do this. Not to mention the fact that the venom could have already reached his bloodstream. The bite is really deep; we could just be putting him through a conscious amputation for nothing."

"Well it's better than sitting here and letting him turn!" Lance protested.

"Hey!" Keith cut them all off, his hands shaking as he balled them up into fists, "It's my arm! How about I decide?"

They all turned to him as if they had forgotten he was there, which, considering it was _his_ body part they were threatening to chop off he felt that was a little unfair.

"Look," he began, "it takes about forty eight hours for the venom to spread and turn a person, right? It takes about an hour and a half to drive from here to Tampa, I say we try to see if we can find the lab-"

"Oh not the _fucking_ lab again," Lance rolled his eyes, his fists were clenched at his sides and Keith thought vaguely that he wouldn't mind being punched, "We don't even know if it's real, let alone in Tampa. Plus, it took us weeks to be sure that it wasn't in Orlando! What makes you think that we'll be able to locate it in less than two days?!"

"Lance!" Shiro shot him a look.

Keith stared at the hard expression on Lance's face and felt something within his chest fracture, "It's the only chance I have." Keith whispered, and the rest of the group stared at him in shock, "Pidge is right, we can't amputate the arm, and even if we could it might be too late. I'm going to die unless there's a cure, and the best chance we have of finding one is in the lab."

Everyone was silent for a moment, before Pidge quietly reached into their pocket and held something up for the group to see, "Look, I'm just putting this out there…"

It was a syringe full of the latest formula they had been trying out on Rover.

"No." Lance shook his head, "No way are we injecting Keith with some weird concoction you stirred up in the middle of the woods."

"I'm not saying we should!" Pidge glared at him, "I'm just saying it's an option. I was trying to find something to stop the effects of zombie-ism, and it made Rover docile for nearly twenty four hours. Maybe it could slow down the transformation process."

"That's still a lot to assume," Shiro bit his lip and turned to Keith, "You were right before, this is your body. What do you want us to do?"

Keith felt suddenly overwhelmed as everyone turned to him for a decision, and weighed his options. On one hand, Lance was right. Amputating his arm probably wouldn't save him at this point, but the chances of them finding the lab in Tampa in under two days was close to zero. Pidge's formula might help, but it had never been tested on a living human, and there was no telling what could happen if he took it.

Keith felt the sudden crushing weight of his own mortality, and as he glanced around at his friends' expectant faces, it dawned on him that he had less than forty eight hours to spend in their company.

"Uhh." He cleared his throat, "I say we move on to Tampa. Pidge's formula can be plan B."

Shiro and Hunk nodded. Lance seemed about to protest, but one look from Hunk shut down whatever he had been about to say, "Fine." He muttered, "I'll drive the truck."

They all watched as he grabbed an extra clip of bullets from the ammo cabinet, climbed down the RV steps and shut the door forcefully behind him. Keith felt numb as they heard a few quick gunshots from outside, and assumed that a zombie or two had heard the chaos going on inside the camper and come to investigate.

Pidge pulled back the curtain to make sure Lance wasn't in any need of back up, and Hunk and Shiro set to getting the RV ready to travel, stowing away the medical supplies Pidge had scattered about in their haste.

Keith felt relieved as the engine rumbled to life, and felt the small tug of inertia as the RV began to roll out. He spared no time in curling up in the corner of the couch. His arm throbbed beneath its new bandage, but Keith didn't want to worry the others by asking for painkillers.

As soon as they hit the highway, Hunk came back and he and Pidge tried to get Keith to pick a board game to play with them.

Hunk kept speaking to him like he was in a hospital and Pidge wouldn't even meet his eyes, but Keith didn't have it in him to call them out on this. It wasn't until he met Shiro's worried gaze in the rearview mirror for the fifth time in as many minutes that Keith had had enough.

He went to the medicine cabinet and took a couple sleeping pills. He was exhausted, and between the stress and the pills, Keith slipped quickly into oblivion.

He was awoken approximately an hour and a half later by the sounds of the group setting up camp. Shiro was rolling out the awning attached to the side of the RV and Hunk nearly clocked him in the head as he walked by with an armful of fold up chairs from the back.

Keith sat up and yawned tiredly, wondering why they hadn't woken him to help set up. And then everything came flooding back, and Keith felt panic settle into his stomach. He lurched to his feet and sprinted to the tiny bathroom, retching up a disgusting mixture of breakfast and blood.

"Keith!" Shiro came careening into the already cramped room, and Keith glanced up in time to watch as Shiro's expression twisted into a mixture of disgust and fear before he quickly composed himself and kneeled down to rub Keith's back as he bent over to continue retching.

It was rare that Shiro let his guard slip, and Keith realized that Shiro must have been internally freaking out. He recalled Shiro's reaction to Matt being bitten, and realized what it must be like for him and Pidge to see him like this.

Matt's bite hadn't been nearly as bad; the zombie had just barely nicked his shoulder, and it was too high up to even consider amputation. For a while they thought he would be fine.

He hadn't shown any symptoms at first; his appetite was normal, his temperature was average, and he claimed he felt fine. The next morning, his temperature hit 104 degrees and it was all downhill from there.

The fact that Keith was throwing up after two hours meant that the venom was spreading quicker than it had with Matt. He would be lucky if he even had thirty more hours.

When Keith was sure his stomach was empty, he leaned back and rested his head against the wall, wishing he could take a shower. A sudden burst of déjà vu hit him, and Keith recalled thinking the same thing the day before, trapped in that office building with Lance. Had that only been the day before?

It was hard to imagine that twenty four hours ago he had been blissfully unaware of his impending fate. Granted, he had been pretty focused on getting himself and Lance the hell out of that building, but he hadn't really _actually_ thought of the prospect of being bitten.

It was amazing how, six months into the apocalypse, dying still came as a shock to him. Keith thought he had come to terms with it long ago, but he found that contemplating the act of dying, and _actually_ dying were two very different things; and he hadn't even begun to experience the actual dying part yet.

"I'm alright," Keith nodded at Shiro's worried expression and lifted himself off the bathroom floor, "It was probably a bad idea to take sleeping pills on an empty stomach."

Shiro's expression was skeptical, but Keith chose to ignore this as he moved to help the others set up camp, trying to at least keep up a semblance of normalcy.

He passed Pidge on his way to the storage compartment, and Pidge bit their lip but didn't say anything. Keith knew they were thinking about Matt.

He grunted as he lifted one of the coolers from storage; normally he'd have been able to carry two at a time, but he was afraid to overexert his injured arm.

"Uhh, Keith, buddy? I think we got this." Hunk carefully lifted the cooler out of his hands and patted him on the back, "You can go rest if you want."

Keith opened his mouth to protest when he saw Shiro shake his head from inside the doorway. He knew Hunk was just trying to be nice, but it just felt like a knife twisting into his sense of self worth.

On the other hand, Keith thought as he stalked off to find something to occupy himself, he supposed it was a good thing that they were managing without him. In a day and a half they would have to.

As he swiped a juice pouch from one of the coolers, Keith wondered idly where Lance was; though a quick glance around camp told him he was off on a water run.

Keith smiled to himself and quietly snuck off into the woods; glancing back to make sure no one saw him go. Lance always volunteered for water runs, and at first Keith had thought it was his way of getting out of helping to unload the RV, but after following him one day Keith quickly realized why it was Lance's favorite chore.

He followed the trail that Lance's new boots had left behind in the foliage and after a minute or so of walking found himself on the bank of a wide but relatively shallow stream. He paused until his mind registered the faint sound of rushing water.

Keith grinned and followed the stream until he spotted it's source; the waterfall had created a small pond about the size of an average swimming pool, and despite the churning caused by the falls, the water was crystal clear, and Keith could spot several small fish swimming toward the bottom.

He quickly caught sight of the water buckets and a pile of Lance's clothes on the far side, and ducked behind a tree just as Lance's head broke the surface.

He wasn't sure what Lance's infatuation with swimming by himself was, but he wasn't about to complain as this was the only time that Keith ever got to see Lance without his mask.

There was something about swimming that made him both open up and calm down, and every time Lance got back to camp he always seemed to be in a much better mood than when he had left.

Today, Keith watched as Lance floated lazily on his back, a calm expression on his face, and wondered at the way he seemed to glow in the sunlight. After a moment or two Lance swam over to the waterfall and ducked his head under, and Keith decided it was now or never.

He picked his way over to the edge of the water and began unlacing his boots. Lance spun around when Keith purposefully kicked a stone into the water and his eyes widened like he'd been caught red-handed.

"Uh," Keith gestured to the water, "Mind if I join you?"

Lance bit his lip as if he were about to protest, but nodded anyway, and Keith pulled off his shirt.

Lance ducked his head back under the waterfall and Keith sighed, wondering when the rest of them would get used to seeing his arm. To be fair, he thought, prodding the swollen greenish skin around the bandage, it _was_ pretty gross.

The water felt nice. He waded in slowly, swishing his hands around experimentally. Keith had thought he was used to heat, after living in Texas his whole life, but Florida was a constant cesspool of humidity.

He ducked his head under the water, shutting his eyes against the coolness, and counted to ten in his mind. When his head broke the surface again, he found Lance in the same place as before, watching the woods around them as water dripped off the end of his nose endearingly.

Keith wanted to swim closer and demand his attention, but chose instead to copy him from before, floating lazily on his back. The feeling of the sunlight on his face was soothing, and the birdcalls in the trees around them threatened to lull him back to sleep.

He probably should have been concerned at how lethargic he was feeling, but it was hard to be nervous while swimming with his face in the sun and Lance's eyes on him.

Speaking of, Keith cracked open an eyelid and saw Lance's head turn swiftly away. Keith sighed, letting his legs sink down into the water and swam over to him beside the falls.

"Hey." Keith prompted, shouting over the sound of rushing water, "This is nice."

"Yeah," Lance's eyes met his reluctantly, "Aren't you afraid of getting an infection?"

Keith shrugged, noting the way Lance's eyes refused to leave his, "I'm going to die anyway, I may as well enjoy it."

Lance winced at his wording, "I thought that you thought we'd be able to find the lab in time?"

Keith squinted up toward the top of the falls, trying to catch sight of the source, "You said it yourself; it's a literal shot in the dark."

Lance grit his teeth as though he were convincing himself not to speak. Finally he glanced away, "You seem awfully calm about this."

"There's nothing I can do. I've had six months to accept this eventuality-"

"There's _always_ something we can do." Lance glared at him, and Keith felt his heart skip a beat.

They were both silent for a moment. Lance's eyes refused to leave his, and Keith felt his face heat up unexpectedly, "We're looking for the lab. _That's_ the best we can do."

Keith knew by the way Lance's jaw tightened, as it always did whenever he brought up the lab, that he didn't believe him.

"I just…" Keith trailed off, and Lance frowned, "I've been searching for so long, and I don't-" his voice cracked, and Lance's eyes widened, "I don't know what else to do…"

Keith's breath hitched, and Lance grabbed his hand, tugging him to the shore. Keith had known this was coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it as the tears finally fell.

"Keith!" Lance kneeled beside him, seeming entirely unsure what to do, "Keith it's-"

He paused, and Keith knew he couldn't bring himself to say the words "it's okay," because it wasn't okay. Keith was going to die. He knew it, Lance knew it, Pidge knew it, Shiro knew it, Hunk knew it. His chance of survival, even if they did manage to locate the lab, was slim to none, and by that knowledge, everything was most definitely not okay, and it never would be. Not for Keith at least.

Instead of finishing his sentence, Lance hesitantly wrapped his arms around him, leaning in further when Keith clung on to him.

"I don't want to die." Keith whispered desperately, and he felt Lance's arms tighten around him. His breath came in rough pants, and he couldn't seem to control his own throat as he struggled to speak. Panic had a vice-grip over his chest as the crushing reality of the situation hit him fully for the first time. 

When the apocalypse first hit, Keith had grit his teeth and forged onward. There was no time to sit and cry, and Keith knew that Shiro was busy comforting Matt, so he had endured alone, busying himself with his own survival and that of his group.

But now Keith was bitten, and no amount of fighting or endurance would get him out of this one. Now he was just another problem for Shiro to stress over, inevitably fail to fix, and eventually pile even more grief and trauma onto the mountain that threatened to crush them all.

Keith sniffled into Lance's shoulder and blinked away a fresh wave of tears as he felt Lance's hand rubbing soothing circles over his back. It wasn't fair, what he was doing to Lance. This was _his_ burden, and the others would grieve enough when he was gone. He shouldn't be going around adding this extra weight to Lance's shoulders.

"I'm sorry." Keith mumbled, and Lance pulled back, wiping some of the tears away with his thumb. His palm moved to cup Keith's face, and Keith was suddenly fully aware that they were both wearing nothing but boxers.

"Don't you dare apologize. This isn't your fault. I shouldn't have gone in without an extra clip, I got cocky and we were split up…" Lance bit his lip, "This is all my fault."

Keith gaped at him, and Lance's inability to meet his eyes earlier suddenly made sense, "Why the hell would you say that? It's not like you pushed me in front of that walker. You were surrounded, and if it was a choice between my life and yours, I would choose yours any day."

Lance's expression froze, and Keith realized belatedly that he had probably said too much. Four and a half years of hiding his obvious crush from Lance, and he decides to practically spell it out the minute he's on death row. Real classy, Kogane.

"Dude," Lance frowned, and Keith figured that wasn't a good sign, "your face is super flushed." He set a hand to Keith's forehead and hissed.

"What the hell?" Lance sprang to his feet and threw Keith's clothes at him, yanking on his own, "Why didn't you tell me your fever was this bad!?"

Keith pulled his shirt on, frowning in confusion, "Fever?"

"Fuck." Lance deadpanned and quickly scooped Keith up in his arms, "Don't argue. You should have told me you were feeling sick."

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's neck as he set off hurriedly into the woods, barely caring that they had left behind the water buckets and half of Keith's clothes.

When they got back to camp, Shiro sprinted over to them, worry lines etched into his forehead, "Keith! You were supposed to be resting."

"What?!" Lance glared down at him, and Keith tried his best to hide his face in Lance's shirt, too exhausted to face either of their disappointed expressions. Lance just set off toward the RV, shaking his head and muttering, "Keith fucking Kogane."

Lance deposited him on the couch and immediately set to cocooning him in a nest of blankets, shouting for Pidge to find medicine to bring down a fever. Keith began to protest all the extra attention, but one glare from Shiro quickly shut him up.

Hunk brought him a bowl of soup that Keith figured Hunk had probably started to heat up earlier after he'd thrown up, and suddenly felt bad for ignoring their requests for him to rest. As he sat on the couch eating his soup, covered in every blanket Lance could find, the others started to argue with one another.

"He's getting worse quicker than we thought." Shiro was pacing up and down.

"Matt didn't develop a fever until the next day." Pidge pointed out, "Keith was only bitten a few hours ago."

"This is why I said we should have amputated the arm when we had the chance!" Lance's fists were balled up, and he looked as though he were ready for a fight.

"Lance," Hunk frowned, "that isn't helping the situation."

"Look," Shiro started, "if we just-"

"Oh cool it with the damn lab, _Dad."_ Lance turned on him, "that was the plan when we thought we had two days. Who knows how much time we have now?!"

"Lance!" Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, and Lance immediately took a step back, "Right now I'm not seeing any other options so maybe if we just give it a chance-"

Keith had stopped listening at that point as an object on the table beside him caught his eye.

"Look, guys," Shiro held up a hand and everyone in the room quieted, including Pidge and Lance who, up until that point, had been shouting an inch from one another's faces, "maybe we should ask Keith his opinion. Keith-"

They all turned to him, and whatever Shiro had been about to say was swallowed up by the sudden silence that fell as they registered the object in Keith's hand.

Keith glanced up at them all, casually tossing the now empty syringe onto the table, "Plan B, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super long chapter! I had an extra day to write, and I got kind of carried away…
> 
> Anyway I hope you liked it! If you feel so inclined, please leave a comment down below, anything you liked, disliked, etc…
> 
> The next chapter should be up in a few days!


	4. Reverie

"Keith!"

"Mffffffhhh"

"Keith!"

The voice blurred in and out of his consciousness as Keith fought against the drowsiness threatening to envelope him.

"Keith!"

He managed to crack one eyelid, confused when the room refused to focus itself. Sitting up straight, Keith rubbed at his eyes tiredly and yawned, his right arm popping as he stretched lightly. He felt a sudden burst of disorientation, and jumped as someone called his name again.

"Keith!"

"What?" Keith blinked a couple of times, the fog slow to recede from his vision. When he could finally see, he glanced up to find Lance standing over him with a disapproving expression.

"Honestly." Lance shook his head in disbelief at Hunk, who was sitting in the desk beside Keith's.

 _Wait_ , Keith frowned, _desks?_

"It's just not fair." Lance folded his arms, "You sleep everyday during class and Iverson never yells at you!"

Keith shrugged, unable to shake the creeping sense of déjà vu clawing at his mind, "Well for one thing, I don't snore. _Lance._ "

Lance's jaw dropped and he gasped exaggeratedly, "I do _not_ snore! Hunk! Tell Keith I don't snore!"

Hunk glanced up from his homework and shrugged guiltily, "Sorry Lance, buddy, I can't help you there."

Keith folded his arms and smirked in victory as Lance fumed at Hunk's "egregious betrayal." His Garrison uniform had a coffee stain on the collar, and Keith found himself suddenly glad that they attended a prestigious boarding school with uniform requirements.

Keith knew that Lance only drank coffee when he was up late studying. He also knew that Lance was a neat freak when it came to his appearance, so the fact that he was wearing a uniform with a coffee stain must mean that he was too tired to notice it, and didn't have time to wash his uniform before classes that morning.

Keith supposed it was mildly creepy that he was able to deduce Lance's mental state by his appearance, but four years of hardcore crushing on the guy had to pay off somehow, right?

"Okay, one final challenge."

Keith glanced up from his reverie as Lance leaned back over his desk, and Keith was glad to find that he'd finally let up on that awful cologne he usually wore, "What?"

"You, me, the track after school." Lance pointed a finger in his face, "Be there or be square."

"No one says that anymore." Keith absently scratched at a bug bite on his arm, trying - perhaps a bit too obviously - to seem disinterested.

"Whatever Kogane, just be there."

Keith wasn't sure if Lance's confidence in the fact that he would show was attribute to his competitive nature, or the fact that Keith had an unhealthy knack for _casually_ showing up in places Lance happened to be.

He watched as Lance made his way to the front of the room and sat just as the bell rang and the lesson began. Keith honestly couldn't have said what was being taught in the front of the room, as his focus was entirely tunneled.

These "final challenges" that Lance issued about once a week were Keith's favorite brand of extracurricular; particularly since they  combined two of his favorite things: physical activity, and Lance.

"Keith, are you okay!?"

Keith turned in confusion to find Hunk staring at him in wide-eyed concern.

"Hunk, stop." Pidge, suddenly in the seat in front of Hunk, turned and laid a hand on Hunk's arm, "You're just going to make it worse."

Keith frowned as Hunk shot him one more worried glance before turning back to the front. Keith rubbed at his arm as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something wasn't right, and the strange sense of déjà vu hadn't left.

What seemed like only a heartbeat later Keith stood on the school's track dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, watching as Lance stretched his legs, eyes narrowed in focus.

"Aren't you going to stretch too?" He glanced up, and Keith hurried to seem preoccupied. He couldn't quite remember how he'd arrived at the track, though his mind had other priorities as Lance casually lifted a leg over his head.

His arms ached as he stretched them above his head, and Keith thought absently that perhaps he should let up on the sword training a bit; if he wanted to keep the use of his arms through the age of eighty that is.

"Alright, I want a nice clean match." Pidge had appeared next to him, and was boredly resetting their stopwatch, " _Lance._ "

"What?" Lance protested, "It's not cheating if Keith falls for it!"

"You tripped me." Keith raised an eyebrow, and Lance shot finger guns at him.

"Yeah but you still _fell_ for it."

Keith and Pidge exchanged an exasperated glance, and Keith woefully wondered why such a dumb joke had the ability to make his heart jump to attention.

"Hey Hunk are you going to be my cheerleader?" Lance grinned at Hunk, who stood suddenly beside Pidge. Keith rubbed his eyes once more as Hunk laughed.

"Yeah sure, but you don't want to see me try to do a split."

Lance threw his head back, and his laughter immediately calmed every nerve in Keith's body, filling him with unexpected warmth. He couldn't quite pinpoint exactly why Lance's laugh opened up a bittersweet chasm in his chest, but he found himself desperately wishing he could stay in this exact moment forever.

"Keith!"

Keith turned to Pidge and Hunk, who were busy shaking on a bet they had made. Pidge knew Keith would win. Hunk was just a loyal friend. 

"No, no, no, no, no!"

Lance slapped him on the back, and Keith stumbled a bit.

"You good, dude?"

Keith glanced up at him and smirked a cocky half smile, "Good to kick your ass."

"Pfft, yeah right!"

Lance hopped over to his lane and got into a ready position, which Keith immediately imitated, waiting for Pidge's whistle. When it sounded, he took off with a jolt, and smirked as immediately Lance fell behind. His legs may be longer, but Keith was quicker off the bat.

"Keith!"

Keith pulled up short and whipped around to Pidge and Hunk, who looked from him to Lance in confusion, "What?"

Keith glanced back to Lance, who was jogging backward, his wind tousled hair falling into his eyes as he laughed, "You can't chicken out now, Mullet!"

Keith turned to follow him.

"Keith!"

He whipped around again, and caught sight of Shiro standing just behind Hunk and Pidge.

"Shiro?" Keith frowned.

"Keith!" Shiro stretched an arm toward him, and for a moment it blurred in his vision, and Keith couldn't tell if it was real or prosthetic. He shook his head and glanced back. This time Shiro was gone; Pidge and Hunk were shouting and gesturing for him to catch up to Lance.

"Hey Keith!" He turned to find Lance's grinning carefree expression, "Come on!"

Keith found himself desperately tugged in his direction, and took a tentative half step forward. Lance grinned and beckoned him;  the alarm bells in Keith's head were rapidly muffled by the warmth that enveloped him. He took another step toward Lance's beckoning and again heard Shiro's voice.

As he turned in confusion, his vision blurred. Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro stood before him, though their appearances were slightly off: none of them wore school uniforms, and each of them seemed to be stained with dirt, sweat, and something that looked suspiciously like blood. Shiro's arm was prosthetic.

Keith blinked and they were back to their usual selves.

"Keith! You have to wake up!"

Keith's chest ached with an unknown agony, and he screamed in alarm as he noticed the blood dripping from his forearm. Pain burst from the wound and Keith sank to his knees, clutching his arm to his chest.

"Keith."

Keith glanced up to find Lance standing over him. He was smiling with his eyes, like he used to before.

Before what?

Keith stared in horror at the gaping wound on his arm, and the bite throbbed sharply as he struggled to recall.

"Keith?"

Lance's voice sounded pained, but his grin was still in place as he extended a hand. Keith watched the way the sun danced in his almond eyes and the ache in his heart overshadowed the pain in his arm.

He reached for Lance's hand, and Lance let out a quiet sob, "Keith, please. Wake up."

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up…

Keith swallowed thickly and Lance's hand began to blur before his eyes.

"No!" He reached out desperately, but it was too late. Lance was gone, and Keith struggled as he was launched headfirst into consciousness.

"Hold him down! He's going to hurt himself!"

Keith heard Pidge shouting as he thrashed wildly, and his mind was only briefly aware that the weight holding his shoulders in place were Hunk's arms.

The world was still mostly a blur; but this time Keith realized, as he blinked and the cluttered RV swam around him, that he was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this isn't a super long chapter but I'm away for the weekend, so I hope this will suffice for a few days!
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment down below, anything you liked disliked etc… Reviews are always appreciated!


	5. Yay or Nay?

"Lance!” Keith sat bolt upright, panting as he fought to rip the strangling blanket away from him. He raised a shaking hand to his head as the last remnants of the dream cleared and reality struck him like a loaded semi.

Before he had a chance to process this, he heard a snort from his left and jumped, glancing over to find Pidge, who was perched on the edge of the table a few feet away laughing at him.

There was an abandoned notepad beside them along with a fair amount of crumpled paper, but Keith was more focused on the fact they were still smirking.

“Hey.” Keith went to fold his arms, before remembering the bite.

“Dude, you’re lucky it’s just me.” Pidge hopped down off the table and promptly stuck a thermometer in his mouth, “You’ve been muttering his name for the past half hour. Good dream?”

Keith scowled when the thermometer had been removed, “Stop looking at me, it’s not like that.”

“Mhm.” Pidge rolled their eyes, but cut him off when he began to protest, “Luckily for you, we don’t have time for your dumb crush. Look.”

Pidge turned the thermometer around and Keith prepared himself for the worst only to find that his temperature appeared to be normal, “Wait…” His eyes widened, “Does this mean-“

“We’re not sure.” Pidge shook their head, “I observed a bit of your blood under a microscope this morning, and it’s still teeming with the same bacteria I’ve found present in zombie blood.”

“Okay,” Keith frowned, “If I still have the bacteria, but the fever has gone down, does that mean I’m cured? Kind of like how once you get the chicken pox the virus stays in your system but your body now has the antibodies to fight it?”

Pidge bit their lip as if trying to decide how to respond. After a moment or two they shrugged and sighed, “Keith, I really have no idea. There’s no way to know for sure until you start exhibiting symptoms again-“

“But what if that doesn’t happen?” Keith glanced down at his arm, a fresh bandage covering the bite mark, and a grin threatened to overtake his expression, “What if I’m actually cured?”

“Keith.” Pidge was staring at him with an anxious expression, and Keith felt his hope deflate once again, “The bite still shows no signs of healing, and I really don’t trust the contents of that syringe-“

“You created it.”

“I know that.” Pidge frowned, “And that’s why it was supposed to be a last resort, but you weren’t there when you…”

They trailed off and turned their head away from him, staring through the RV windshield. Keith saw them hastily swipe a finger under one eye and a fresh burst of anxiety settled in his stomach, “Pidge… what happened to me?”

“After you injected yourself-” Pidge frowned, “Which, by the way, we’re all still very pissed at you for - you kind of just… shut down. You collapsed so quickly we all thought you’d died, and I think your heart stopped beating for a couple of seconds but it was hard to tell with all of the chaos going on. Then all the sudden you just sort of started shaking. Like, not convulsing, but shivering, and you went from feverish to nearly hypothermic in under five minutes. We were afraid to give you anything in case it didn’t react well with my formula, but eventually you started responding to our voices.”

Keith suddenly recalled dream Hunk and Pidge calling his name from the track.

“You woke up briefly, but you were thrashing around and screaming so I had to sedate you for a little while, and now we’re here.”

“How long was I out?” Keith glanced through the window and noticed that the sky was pitch black.

“Five hours.”

“Where… where are the others?”

Pidge glanced over at him, “Hunk, Lance, and Shiro went searching for the lab. I was elected to stay behind since I know the most about medicine, and the “zombie junk” you shot yourself up with. Lance’s words. It’s dark so they should be back soon-”

Keith shot straight up and Pidge calmly pushed him down, “ _Sit_. You were stable but still out cold. We were worried we were running out of time so Lance suggested they go searching just in case.”

“Wait a minute,” Keith paused in his attempt to escape, “Lance suggested they go? Lance hates the lab.”

Pidge frowned, “He doesn’t hate it. I think that Lance just doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He’s not some crazy cryptid like you, and he’s not as dedicated as Shiro.”

“He literally cringes every time I bring it up.”

“So do we all. You’re kind of obsessed.” Pidge folded their arms, “Like, the rest of us want to find it, but it’s like you’re possessed or something.”

Keith sighed, entirely not in the mood to discuss his obsessive tendencies, “Look, it’s still weird, okay? Why him?”

“You seriously haven’t noticed?” Pidge blinked at him with a carefully neutral expression, and Keith hastily stopped his mind from attempting to fill in the blanks.

“Noticed what?”

“He’s taking this harder than any of us. Harder than _you._ ” Pidge bit their lip, “When you were asleep earlier, when the rest of us were setting up camp, Hunk suggested we move you and Lance practically ripped him apart. _Lance_ snapped at _Hunk._ ”

Keith’s eyes widened; Hunk was the single person on the planet that Lance would never dream of being mean to. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as Lance’s words from the waterfall came back to him, and realized belatedly that he should have been more adamant in convincing him this wasn’t his fault.

“I…” Keith swallowed, “I never asked-“

“Of course you didn’t ask for us to be worried.” Pidge stood, and grabbed a water bottle from the cupboard, tossing it to him, “ _Everyone_ is on edge, and you know better than any of us how weird Lance has been acting these past few months.”

Keith caught the bottle and gratefully sipped at the water, only then noticing how raw his throat was. He felt awful at how much he had probably scared the rest of them, and, studying Pidge’s expression carefully, he quickly noticed the way their eyes could never quite meet his. Even their sarcasm seemed slightly forced.

“Pidge.” Keith watched their eyes slowly raise to his, “I’m sorry for scaring you all like that, I know after Matt-“

He was cut off as Pidge’s arms wrapped around his neck. Common sense told him he was being hugged, but after knowing Pidge for years his first instinct was to tense up and struggle out of the headlock.

“Calm down idiot, I’m hugging you.” Pidge tightened their grip, and Keith blinked in astonishment, tentatively returning the hug.

“That’s a new one.” Keith smirked as Pidge let out a brittle chuckle.

“One and only time, Kogane…” They sniffled slightly, “Why you? Why now?”

Keith swallowed, biting his lip to keep from crying, “Maybe it was meant to happen.”

“Bullshit.” Pidge balled a fist in his shirt, “First I lost Matt, and now… just when we’re so close… It’s like the universe is telling us to quit while we’re ahead.”

“No.” Keith grit his teeth, “Don’t you dare give up. Promise me Pidge. Promise me no matter what happens to me you’ll keep looking. For the lab, _and_ the cure.”

“Shut up. Just… shut up Keith. You’re not going to die.” Pidge muttered as though they didn’t quite believe it themself.

Keith felt suddenly nauseous; the pain he knew he was putting the rest of them in was tearing him apart, and knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent it just made everything that much worse.

After Matt had died they’d moved on… physically. Shiro drove them all the way to Florida just to get away from the memories, but emotionally, it was like someone dropped a nuclear warhead on them all.

Pidge, naturally, was the most affected. Shiro spent a good two weeks just coaxing them out of bed, despite his own instability, and on more than one occasion, Keith saw him walk into the woods and worried that he wouldn’t come back out.

Keith wasn’t related to Matt, and he hadn’t been best friends with him like Shiro, but after spending two months fighting for their lives beside one another, Keith couldn’t say he didn’t know him.

It was rough on them all, and Keith felt guilty for taking the time to grieve when Pidge and Shiro clearly needed it more, but now, being on the other end of things, he knew that’s not what Matt would have wanted.

They’d found Lance and Hunk shortly after, but Pidge was never really the same. They’d slowly regained their sense of humor and started up their experiments, but Keith could still see the edge they’d gained, and he knew that Lance and Hunk had noticed it too when they’d arrived.

He didn’t want that to happen again. Not for him.

“Pidge,” He forged on even though he felt them crying silently, “You can’t let this affect anything. You can’t let me dying change you guys.”

Pidge pulled away and swiped at the tear tracks lining their cheeks, “Oh please… what makes you think you’re so special?”

Keith laughed quietly, and was about to retort when they both heard the sound of a car approaching. Keith glanced through the windshield in time to catch sight of headlights swinging into the clearing.

“If anyone asks, you just woke up, and I’ve been yelling at you for taking the formula, got it?” Pidge had hopped back up on the table, and all signs of crying were gone from their face, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

Keith smiled wryly, and hastily wiped at his own face, envying their ability to look so normal after a breakdown. Though, he supposed, they’d had more than enough practice.

When the door swung open Keith was sure his eyes were still red and puffy, but he hoped it would be hard to tell in the dim interior of the RV.

“Keith! Oh thank god.” Shiro rushed over to him, Hunk right on his heels, and Keith noticed the way Lance froze in the doorway, eyes examining his face carefully. Keith should have known he would be the one to notice.

“Dude, are you okay?” Not waiting for a response, Hunk laid a hand over his forehead, “Phew, still no fever… but this time maybe try not to bite me haha.”

“I bit you?!” Images of rotting, gnashing teeth filled his mind and Keith felt the nausea in his stomach double. He searched Hunks arms frantically, but Hunk just chuckled and held up his hands.

“Don’t worry, you were unsuccessful.” At the look on Keith’s face, he hastily added, “But I don’t think you were trying to bite me like _that,_ I think it was just like a reflex or something.”

“A reflex.” Keith repeated numbly, not feeling remotely reassured.

“Yeah Keith, a reflex. Not that you would know what those are.”

They all turned in astonishment to Lance, who still stood awkwardly by the door. At the sight of their gaping, he raised an eyebrow questioningly, “What, no comeback?”

“Pffft, like your reflexes are all that great.” Keith kept his expression neutral as Lance’s stance relaxed.

“My reflexes are catlike, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, like a dead cat maybe.”

Hunk chuckled softly, and Pidge let out a snort. Keith didn’t miss the way Shiro was looking at him, but Lance ignored them and picked his way over to the couch, perching on one of the armrests.

“Good to see you awake, Samurai.” He shot Keith a lopsided smile and Keith’s heart did flip flops in his chest.

“Keith.” Shiro was kneeling beside the couch, and Keith recognized the worried slant to his eyes, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Keith pushed himself up further, “Better than fine, actually. It’s like I was never even bitten.” His stomach lurched unpleasantly, but he attributed that to a combination of aftereffects and stress. He didn’t have a fever after all.

“That’s…” Shiro glanced to Pidge for confirmation, “Good?”

Pidge nodded, and the entire room seemed to exhale. Keith glanced around at them all, his mind finally registering the scratches on Lance’s arm and the zombie gore on Hunk’s shirt.

“Oh!” Keith shot up, and ignored everyone’s surprised flinch, “How did it go? Did you guys find anything?”

Shiro and Lance exchanged a glance, and Keith felt his hopes deflate.

“It…” Lance began tentatively, “The city is completely covered in napalm burns. Half the buildings are blown to bits.”

“The military must have tried to contain the spread of the virus by destroying the city.” Shiro shook his head, “Keith –“

Keith shook his head, his mind already racing to figure out the possibilities, “No… That doesn’t mean…” He trailed off as he glanced around at all of their grim expressions. Even Shiro seemed doubtful.

“Keith, buddy,” Hunk placed a hand on his arm, “We’re not saying it’s impossible, but the city-“

“We’ll just have to go back.” Keith bit his lip in thought, “We’ll have to keep searching, make up routes and divide up the sectors… What?”

They were all staring at him with the same bated expression. After a moment of tense silence, Lance spoke up in a weak tone, “…We?” 

Lance grimaced as Keith shot him a glare, “Yes, _we._ I’ve been looking for the lab longer than any of you. I _have_ to be out there.”

“Keith-“

“Don’t _Keith_ me, Shiro. I feel fine. Look.” He grabbed at the bandages around his arm, and all four of them lunged at him simultaneously.

“Get off me!” Keith struggled, unsuccessfully, to pull his arm out of Shiro’s grip.

“Keith, you’re being irrational,” Pidge braced their hands on their hips, “I know it sucks, but you’re still sick. You can’t just go running around a zombie infested city.”

“Why not?” Keith glared around at them, “I’ve already been bitten, what more can they do to me?”

“Eat you?” Lance glared at him, “Tear you to shreds. Back you into a corner and dismember you. The list goes on, Keith.”

Keith met his eyes, and for a moment they glared at one another unflinchingly as the rest of the group watched on in grim horror.

Finally, Keith glanced away, “Fine. I clearly can’t convince you otherwise.”

Shiro exhaled in relief, but Lance continued to stare at him suspiciously.

“How about we all just go to bed for now?” Hunk suggested slowly, studying Lance’s expression, “It’s not like we can’t make decisions in the morning.”

“You’re right, Hunk.” Shiro nodded, and they all stood, Keith surprised when he didn’t have to lean against the couch for support. “I’ll take first watch since Keith is up on the schedule.”

“I can-“

“No you can’t.” Everyone said at once, and Keith relented reluctantly, too exhausted to argue with all of them at once.

“But Shiro, someone has to watch him tonight,” Pidge protested, “Just in case.”

“I’ll do it.”

They all turned to Lance in astonishment, and Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Why?”

Lance opened his mouth defensively, and Keith thought he saw a slight blush rising in his cheeks, “Because it’s better than sleeping on the couch with Hunk. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Pidge repeated sarcastically, and Lance shot them a look.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but decided to let it go when a yawn attempted to swallow him whole, “Whatever guys. Whoever sleeps with me, sleeps with me. I’m going to bed.”

As he made his way slowly to the back bedroom, he turned slightly to see if Lance was following, and watched as Hunk placed a hand on his arm and nodded. Keith wondered at the silent exchange, but Lance and Hunk had always been able to communicate like that, similar to his own connection with Shiro.

His side of the bed was exactly how he’d left it what seemed like a lifetime ago; the pillow askew and the covers thrown back. He was always in such a hurry in the morning, and at the moment, Keith couldn’t seem to recall why. Especially not as he glanced up to find Lance awkwardly hovering in the doorway.

“Hey.”

“This isn’t weird right?” Keith nearly smiled as Lance’s old anxious self peeked through the cracks, “I just… I don’t trust you not to sneak out tonight, and…”

He trailed off as Keith let out another yawn and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, “Trust me, or don’t trust me. I’m going to bed.”

He pulled off his shirt and wasted no time in sliding under the covers, turning his back to hide his expression as he felt the other half of the bed dip under Lance’s weight.

He heard Lance unlacing his boots, and two dull thuds as they hit the carpet. As Lance settled back against the pillows, Keith huffed in exasperation and turned to face him.

“You know you can sleep… _in_ the bed, right?” He glanced pointedly at Lance’s body, which was lying stubbornly on top of the blanket.

Lance raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged, “Just trying to make it less weird.”

“It’s not weird.” Keith pointed out as Lance hesitantly slipped under the sheets, “It was never weird in the first place.”

Lance glanced at him strangely, and Keith tried not to think about how close they were, and how if he reached out just slightly…

Lance’s eyes widened, “Did you just… kick me?”

Keith raised his eyebrows innocently, “Me?”

Lance rolled his eyes, “Well it wasn’t the bed monster. He lives underneath the bed, obviously.”

Keith smiled; that was the second joke Lance had made that night, and it was nice; even if his expression seemed uncertain, like he was trying to laugh but didn’t quite remember how.

“So,” Keith cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m, uh, I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Sorry about what,” Lance’s expression hardened, and he rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, “The part where you followed me into the woods with a fever, or the part where you shot yourself up with Pidge’s death formula?”

“Technically it’s supposed to be an anti-death formula.” Keith shrugged as Lance turned to glare at him.

After a long moment of silence treatment Keith sighed and propped his head on his uninjured arm so he could meet Lance’s eyes straight on, “Fine. Both. I’m sorry for both. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just wanted things to be normal, and then you were all shouting and my head was pounding and it seemed like a good idea, or at least AN idea, and-“

Keith blinked as Lance covered his mouth lightly with one hand, “Dude, it’s… well, it’s not okay, but it’s not your fault. The zombie venom is making you act all weird.”

“What?” Keith frowned, “How am I acting weird?”

“Well for one thing, you went swimming with me earlier.” Lance counted off on his fingers, and Keith rolled his eyes, “You gave Shiro the slip, you, um, _fucking shot yourself up with sketchy Pidge formula…_ Oh, and I’m about eighty percent sure that the only thing you’ve had to eat today was a juice box. Which isn’t really weird, but you should really quit doing that to yourself.”

“Okay, but I’ve always been impulsive.” Keith argued despite having to bite back a grin as he recognized Lance’s signature sarcasm, “And maybe I wanted to swim? Is that so weird?”

“I mean, _yeah,_ you’ve always been impulsive, but… Jesus Fucking Christ Keith _._ ” Lance bit his lip and shook his head incredulously, “When you collapsed like that…”

He shut his eyes tightly, and Keith felt the urge to lean over and kiss them. Instead he reached over, ignoring the slight tug he felt at the bite on his arm, and placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Hey. I’m here now. I’m okay.”

“No. You’re not.” Lance opened his eyes and searched Keith’s as Keith struggled for a response.

He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that; Lance was right of course, and from the beginning Lance had been the only one out of the group with any sense of the reality of the situation. Lance was the only one that hadn’t told him that it would be okay. That he wouldn’t die.

Lance had little to no hope of them finding the lab and perhaps, Keith realized suddenly, _that_ was why he seemed to be the most affected out of all of them; because he _didn’t_ have any distorted sense of survival. Because he had long since resigned himself to Keith’s death.

 _But._ A small voice in the back of his mind spoke up, _Then why was he the one urging them to search earlier?_

Keith frowned as he pondered this, and it wasn’t until Lance glanced away that Keith realized they had been staring at one another.

“Sorry.” Lance sighed and rubbed at his temples in quiet resignation, “That was harsh.”

“No,” Keith sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment, thinking carefully before sighing heavily, “I think I needed the reminder.”

He felt rather than saw Lance’s eyes shift back to him, but chose not to acknowledge it.

“You know,” He prompted, keeping his eyes resolutely trained on the ceiling, “when we find the lab-“

“What the hell is wrong with you.”

Keith glanced over in surprise at Lance, who was facing him fully now, a deep grimace marring his expression, “Like, seriously, what is your deal with the lab?”

“I…” Keith trailed off, unsure, but the determined set of Lance’s eyes told him Lance wasn’t going to let it go this time.

“When the first wave hit… When the military first started to fail,” Keith began slowly, watching as Lance’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. To be fair, Keith wasn’t usually super open about his past.

“Pidge, Matt, Shiro, and I barricaded ourselves in the Holt’s house. Pidge and Matt’s parents had been eaten in front of them, and we were all terrified for our lives.”

“Pidge had this radio they built themselves, and every day they would refuse to turn it off no matter how much the rest of us complained. It was always the same dumb repeated message about the safe house in Houston; except we all knew the safe house was overrun weeks before. It was the same goddamn message, over and over, and it started to drive me crazy.”

Lance frowned, “What did they expect to hear?”

“I think it was more of a comfort than anything else.” Keith shrugged, “Except to the rest of us it was just a reminder that our only hope for rescue was gone… So, one night when the others fell asleep I went to switch it off, and all the sudden – as if it’d been waiting for me to hear it - this new message began playing.”

Lance raised an eyebrow skeptically, “What was the message?”

“Attention to anyone who is listening;” Keith recited, “the lab is secure. Altea Laboratory is searching for the cure.”

As he spoke the words Keith felt the itch of hunger at the back of his mind; the same creeper that had been driving him to find the lab all these months, and bit his lip, for the moment trying to repress it.

“I was ecstatic…” He continued softly, “but by the time I’d woken up the others the message had been disrupted.”

“That sounds like something out of a movie, or like a bad fanfic or something.” Lance snorted and Keith glared at him.

“Anyway… I became a bit obsessed-”

“You went insane.” Lance corrected, ignoring Keith’s indignant scoff, “You did! I’ve seen the conspiracy corkboard you keep under the bed.”

“Yeah, well, now you know why.” Keith shrugged, “It’s all I have to work toward. I… I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I weren’t constantly searching for it.”

Keith felt his fingers toying at the edge of the blanket subconsciously. Even just talking about it made him antsy.

“How about just, survive?” Lance spread his hands questioningly, “Why do you _need_ to stress over this?”

“No… I have to.” Keith carefully studied the pattern on the old blanket as he attempted to come up with a precise explanation, “I know I’ll go crazy without a goal to work toward. It keeps me sane.”

By the look in his eyes, Keith could see that Lance understood what he meant. This new earth had a way of changing people, of driving them over the edge… At least, more so than the old one.

It was easy to lose yourself in a world without society. There were no more norms and mores to adhere to or laws to keep people in check. The boundaries between countries were gone; of course, _geographically_ speaking they were still there, but without people there is no unification, no culture. Just land, and the dead to take it for granted.

Not that the living had been very grateful - global warming spoke for itself - but at the very least they had the capacity to be appreciable.

This lack of structure, the very idea of human inferiority and the lack of control had a way of distorting the mind. Lance and Hunk hadn’t been the first survivors they’d encountered, and there was a reason they weren’t still with them.

For a moment, Lance was silent and Keith knew he was thinking about the same thing he was. Eventually, he turned back to the ceiling and said in a neutral tone, “You know, when this thing first started I was with my family.”

Keith turned to him wordlessly.

“All but my two youngest siblings and my father made it through the first wave, and we found Hunk holed up in a convenience store a few days after.”

“How many siblings did you have?” Keith had known Lance for years at the Garrison, and yet he’d never actually met his family. They didn’t live in Texas, and Hunk was the only one who ever visited Lance during vacations.

“Seven.” Lance’s eyes were vacant as he spoke, and Keith felt the urge to inform him he didn’t need to continue, but something told him that Lance needed to say it out loud, “Rosie and Miguel died first. My dad died trying to save them.”

“Pidge and Matt’s parents died to save the four of us.” Keith added, unsure whether it was the right thing to say. Lance bit his lip and nodded shortly before continuing, his eyes still trained on the ceiling.

“Theo, Mariana, Anton, Sam, and Reyna.” Lance shut his eyes as he spoke their names, and Keith listened as he subconsciously slipped back into his old Cuban accent. It had dulled since he’d first arrived at the Garrison, but sometimes Keith could still hear it in the way he pronounced certain words.

“How…” Keith trailed off, unsure, “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me-“

“It was my fault.” Lance took a shaky breath, “Hunk and I went on a supply run. I left Theo in charge, even though I knew he wasn’t getting enough sleep from the nightmares. But we needed the supplies… My mom was sick, and she begged me not to go, but we left anyway.”

Keith suddenly recalled the way Lance had attempted to stay in the truck when Keith suggested they go into the shoe store, before he’d been bitten.

“We got trapped.” Lance continued, his voice shaking, “It took us nearly two days to get out of the city alive, and by the time we got back…”

He clapped a hand over his mouth as his voice broke, and Keith didn’t hesitate to reach out for him. He acquiesced silently and Keith felt his heart burst as Lance’s head fit into the crook of his neck.

Well, now he knew. He knew where Lance’s edge had come from, he knew why he was always so angry and numb lately. Part of Keith wished he didn’t know. It was horrible, what had happened to Lance, to lose his family and blame himself like that.

And now he blamed himself for Keith as well.

It took a while, but eventually Lance stopped shaking, and Keith continued to run his fingers through his hair softly. Slowly, he leaned back and allowed their eyes to meet.

“I…” Lance swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand at his eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all my baggage on you like that, I just – “

“Shhh.” Keith offered him a small smile, and watched the way Lance's eyes studied his face, like he was memorizing Keith the way Keith usually did to him, “I’m glad you did. We needed the closure.”

“No.” Lance’s expression clouded, “That’s not closure. Sorry Mullet, but we have a long way to go until we reach closure.”

Keith grinned despite his pounding heart, and Lance’s expression slowly grew less intense. Eventually, he glanced at Keith’s arm, which was still around him, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Keith reluctantly retracted it, ignoring the urge to wrap it tighter around him and refuse to move, choosing instead to whisper conspiratorially, “Is it weird yet?”

Lance rolled his eyes, “Everything is fucking weird lately.”

Keith rolled his eyes back and yawned widely, surprised when Lance shut his eyes without turning away. Keith had half expected him to build a wall of pillows between them, but he couldn’t deny his appreciation of the ability to study Lance’s sleeping face.

It took a while, but eventually Keith noticed the change in his breathing and assumed he’d fallen asleep. Softly, so he wouldn’t wake him, Keith leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait! I had exams to deal with and graduation over the weekend, so here's an extra long chapter with barely anything going on... The next chapter is a little more... exciting...
> 
> As always if you feel so inclined please leave a comment! I love feedback, and constructive criticism is always appreciated!


	6. Bad Decision Time

Keith awoke thoroughly confused in a tangled mess of limbs. Neither he nor Shiro really moved around much in their sleep, so waking up with someone else wrapped around him was a new – though not entirely unwelcome – sensation.

He shifted away toward the edge of the bed and froze as the person moaned quietly. Soft brown hair tickled his neck, and Keith sucked in a startled breath as the events from the previous night came rushing back to him.

He studied Lance's sleeping expression in amusement, wondering if he ever sleep-spooned Hunk like this. _Probably_ , Keith thought wryly, why should he be special?

He thought belatedly that perhaps he should extricate himself before Lance woke up and made it weird, but his mind fought the idea, and instead urged him to snuggle closer and go back to sleep.

Feigning ignorance seemed especially appealing as Lance mumbled something incoherent and buried his head further in Keith's neck. His left hand was nestled half under his shirt and Keith could feel the calluses on his fingers.

This was his one and only chance to "sleep" with Lance, and all he could think about was Lance's potentially horrified expression when he finally woke up and found himself spooning Keith.

Hating himself, Keith carefully squirmed and wriggled until he was almost fully out of Lance's grip and slid out of the bed, thanking every deity that Lance was a heavy sleeper.

Which, he thought in retrospect, seemed rather strange. Out of all of them, Lance was by far the most paranoid; not to mention he was the second earliest riser, right after Keith himself… Though, perhaps _he_ was being paranoid.

Slowly shaking the idea from his head, Keith slipped on his shirt and quietly headed for the door. Upon reaching it he paused, feeling suddenly guilty as he glanced back to Lance's sleeping face. Scowling, he backtracked.

"Hey." Keith poked at Lance's shoulder sourly, "Sleeping beauty."

"Mmmph." Lance rolled over, and Keith arched an eyebrow at him as he blinked slowly. He met his eyes with a sleepy smile, and Keith watched as Lance's sleep clogged mind caught up and registered Keith standing over him.

"I knew it!" He sat straight up, pointing an accusing finger, "You did sneak out!"

Keith rolled his eyes, "No, I didn't. I was going to, but I didn't."

"Oh yeah, and why should I believe you?" Lance narrowed his eyes.

Keith shrugged helplessly, "Because I woke you up?"

"Covering your tracks."

"My boots don't even have mud on them."

"You washed them in the creek."

"They're dry."

"You-"

"Look, Lance." Keith shushed him, "I woke you up because I need someone to go with me to the creek."

"Why?"

"My, uh, bite itches." Keith lied, "I wanted to wash it out and change the bandage."

Lance's eyes lit up, and Keith felt horrible for lying to him, "Really? Doesn't itching mean it's healing or something?"

"Yeah maybe." Keith felt his stomach churn guiltily.

"Okay fine." Lance slid out of the bed and searched for his boots, "I need to wash up anyway, but if we see any zombies, you let me take care of them, got it?"

"Yeah, okay mom." Keith rolled his eyes, "Hurry up, I don't want to wake the others."

Lance gave him a suspicious look but Keith simply ignored him and buckled on his sword belt, tucking a few extra things in his pockets when he was sure Lance wouldn't notice.

Lance checked his guns, and Keith didn't miss the way he added three extra clips to his belt instead of the usual two.

They snuck out of the RV silently, making their way by Shiro, who was asleep in the front seat. Keith was annoyed to find that he had taken over both shifts yet again so the others could get more rest.

He usually fell asleep around the time when the sun rose, since the zombies were much less active during the day, but it was still too much for one person to stay up all night, especially if he was taking over Keith's shifts too.

"Are we going or not?" Lance held the door open for him, and Keith nodded, making a mental note to confront Shiro later.

As they picked their way through the trees Keith couldn't help but marvel at the stubborn flourishing of life around him. He had always loved the outdoors, and even though the woods weren't exactly the cracked dirt and dry sand from home, it was still nice.

Above all he especially appreciated the noise that the woods still made. A year ago Keith would've liked the idea of a quiet world, but after spending six months wandering through eerily silent cities, and towns quieter than the dark void of space, it started to play tricks with his mind.

Not the woods though. In the woods there was always the cacophony of birds, of foraging squirrels, and of the leaves whispering nonsense to the indifferent wind. Even the bugs were a welcome noise in a world lacking in sound.

Zombies devoured everything in their path, but a lot of wild animals were either too smart or too fast for them; the birds in particular had flourished with the decreased amount of predators.

Keith watched, mesmerized, as a crow swooped overhead, and jumped as Lance's gun went off beside him. It had its silencer on, but the noise was still loud enough to send the crow careening away, and Keith was almost sad to see it go.

Turning, he watched the zombie hit the ground, its half rotten skull blown nearly to bits. There was dark brain matter spattered over the tree behind it and Keith swallowed thickly at the sight.

He wasn't quite sure why it bothered him so much, especially after months spent slashing zombies apart with a katana, but he found it suddenly difficult to pry his eyes away from the depressing sight of the crumpled and decaying body sprawled over the forest floor like an animal. It was still dressed in a tattered suit, like it'd come straight from a business meeting gone wrong. Keith supposed it may have.

"Come on." Lance ushered Keith on, even though his own eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the dead zombie.

When they reached the creek, Keith watched the tension leak out of Lance's shoulders and his grip on his gun relax. He motioned toward the direction of the falls, but Lance shook his head and kicked off his boots.

Keith frowned in confusion, but glanced away as Lance pulled off his shirt and began wading into the water. He splashed some into his face and Keith took the opportunity to study the scars decorating Lance's back and torso, winding around his arms like spider webs.

Keith speculated as to how many of them probably could have used stitches, desperately trying to keep himself from wondering which ones Lance had gotten trying to get back in time to save his family.

Keith glanced down at himself; he had an equal number of scars, but the wound on his arm certainly took the cake.

Cautiously, Keith unwound the bandage, careful to keep his back to Lance, and suddenly felt the urge to puke. The bandage was stained with pus, and Keith noticed something strange about the veins snaking up his arm.

They were supposed to look dark purple, right? It wasn't red streaking, so it definitely wasn't an infection… It was probably nothing worth worrying the others over.

"Hey."

Keith quickly wound the new bandage around it and turned to find Lance studying him carefully, swallowing back the nausea threatening to crawl up his throat, "Yeah?"

Lance's eyes narrowed and Keith tried to discreetly hide his arm from view.

"So, uh," Keith hastily spitballed for a new subject, "You plan on going back to the city later?"

Lance's eyes met his incredulously, though Keith could tell that he still harbored his suspicions, "Yeah… but don't bother trying to convince me to take you, it's not gonna happen."

Keith pouted, "But-"

"No." Lance folded his arms over his chest and Keith mirrored him, ignoring the sting as it put pressure on the bite.

"Yes."

"No."

"Y-"

"I'm not going to stand here and argue." Lance bent to continue splashing water over himself, "You're just going to get yourself killed sooner."

"So?" Keith replied petulantly, wincing as Lance froze.

"So?" Lance repeated weakly, "So? So, the rest of us won't get to spend more time with you? So we won't get to say goodbye? You know Hunk's been talking about making you a last meal, and I…"

He trailed off, but Keith could see the pain in his eyes, and waded closer, "Please, Lance. You know how much this means to me. I can't just sit in the RV and ponder my own death."

"You could help Pidge-"

"The last time I tried to help Pidge they tried to stab me with a thermometer."

"It's better than dying in the street." Lance's eyes stubbornly refused to leave his.

"Lance." They were less than a foot away now, and Keith saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, "We're the best fighting team, we won't take any unnecessary risks this time. We can go before the others wake up and be back by lunch time. Look at me, I feel fine."

He saw the resolve in Lance's eyes waver and pressed on, "You'll be able to keep an eye on me, and we both know that if you leave me with Pidge I'll just sneak out on my own. You know they get tunnel vision when it comes to their experiments."

"I-"

"Come on, Sharpshooter." Keith leaned in, watching as Lance's eyes widened, "What are you so afraid of?"

"You." Lance cleared his throat, his face red as he glared down at Keith, "You scare me, Keith. You and your dumb fucking death wish."

Keith glared right back, thrilled that his antagonization actually worked for once, "Call it what you want, but I'm finding that lab whether you like it or not."

Lance took another step forward until their foreheads touched, "Over my dead body."

"More like my dead body." Keith growled, satisfied as Lance winced, not caring for the moment that he may have gone too far.

After a moment of tense glaring, Lance backed away and folded his arms, "You want to come with me that badly?"

"Yes." Keith swished his hands around in the water anxiously, "This goal is the only thing keeping me from falling to pieces."

"It's a pretty weak brand of glue." Lance pointed out hesitantly.

"It's all I have."

" _We_ are all you have." Lance glared at him earnestly.

This stopped Keith for a moment, and he opened his mouth to reply, shutting it when he couldn't come up with anything to say.

"Look, Keith," Lance sighed and unfolded his arms, "You're trying to fight this battle on your own, and it's not going to work. This affects us just as much as it affects you, and _we're_ going to have to live with it."

"Okay." Keith folded his arms, "How do you propose to help me fight this?"

"I don't know," Lance bit his lip, "But I'd like the chance to try."

"Lance," Keith frowned, "You've helped me by just being there for me, I'm not asking you for anything else, I just want-"

"That's not good enough!" Lance ran a hand through his hair agitatedly, "I'm sorry, but just being there isn't good enough, I want to be able to help. I want to be able to fix you. You deserve so much more than this, and it's my fault-"

"Hey, woah," Keith stopped him, "This is in no way your fault. No one ever said it was."

"Keith," Lance shook his head, " _I_ got us separated. _I_ ran out of bullets. _I_ got backed into a corner-"

"If you want to play the blame game," Keith raised an eyebrow, "I was the one who made us go inside in the first place."

Lance shook his head, his arms wrapped around himself, "You want to know the worst part?"

Keith frowned.

"You'd just saved my ass, you were covered in gore, and you'd been _bitten_ , Keith, and _you_ were comforting _me_." Lance stared into the water with a numb expression, "You made sure I was okay first. You didn't even tell me you'd been bitten until I'd calmed down and noticed it myself because you knew I was freaked out and didn't want to fucking _worry_ me or something."

Keith grit his teeth. He wasn't sure what to say to that considering it was all completely true. He valued Lance's life far above his own, but he never thought it would come around to bite him like this. He never thought he was hurting Lance.

"Selfless prick." Lance smiled wryly, and Keith rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well you're a self important prick." Keith folded his arms, "I would have done that for anyone on the team. Not only that, but I know for a fact you would do the same for any one of us."

They stared at one another for a tense moment, and finally Lance sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "Four hours max. We don't get out of the car."

"Yes!" Keith grinned, watching Lance's expression morph from doubtful to potentially regretful, "I was hoping not to have to handcuff you to a tree."

Lance scoffed as Keith tugged him by the hand to the bank of the creek, "Okay first of all, you don't even _have_ handcuffs, and second of all you'd never be able to."

"I totally could." Keith smirked at him, lying through his teeth. Under normal circumstances he may have been able to, but even now he could feel the leftover lethargy stuck in his system, and he knew he would never stand a chance. Or rather, he hoped it was leftover.

As he and Lance approached the camp, Lance made to open the door to the RV and Keith quickly stopped him, "Let's just leave a note."

Lance grimaced, "Why did I let you talk me into this?"

Keith shrugged, pulling a pen and notepaper out of his belt, "Because I'm cute?"

Lance rubbed a tired hand over his face as he watched Keith scribble a quick note to Shiro, "You planned this whole thing out didn't you?"

"Yep." Keith stuck the note in the door, and pulled a fourth gun clip from his jacket pocket, handing it to Lance, "Thought you might want this."

Lance accepted it with an amused expression, and Keith patted his backup knife to be sure it was still there. As they headed out, Keith and Lance jumped guiltily as the RV door swung open and Shiro leaned into view, twirling the keys to the truck around one finger.

"Going somewhere?"

"Uh, for a walk?" Keith rubbed the back of his neck.

"Mhm." Shiro eyed them both, and Keith discretely tried to turn his belt to hide his extra knife from view. Shiro rolled his eyes and turned back toward the RV, "Pidge!"

Keith and Lance glanced at one another in confusion as Pidge appeared in the doorway, their crossbow in hand and a knife at their waist, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."

"What?" Shiro glanced at them innocently, tossing Lance the keys, "You don't think I'd send you out without backup, did you?"

Pidge shot them a smirk, "Nice try being subtle."

Keith scowled at Shiro's smug expression, and as they turned again to leave, Shiro called out, "Lance!"

"Yeah?"

Shiro just shot him a look, and Lance nodded solemnly. Keith glanced back and forth between them dubiously, wondering why everyone but him seemed to have gained mind reading capabilities lately.

"Bring him back." Shiro worried at his lip with his teeth.

"I will."

"We will." Pidge corrected him, tugging Lance by the collar of his shirt, "Come on you dramatic assholes, daylight's burning."

After a short but violent squabble, Keith climbed grumpily into the back seat, Pidge triumphantly bracing their feet up on the dashboard.

"Gremlin."

"Alien."

Lance smirked at their pet names for one another and adjusted the rearview mirror. Keith could've sworn Lance pointed it at him on purpose, but he had more important things on his mind.

"So," he prompted, feeling a mixture of excitement and dread swoop through his chest as Lance pulled out of the clearing, "what was that look Shiro gave you all about?"

"Jealous?" Pidge snorted, and Keith kicked the back of their seat pointedly.

"Oh that?" Lance shrugged nonchalantly, "Shiro and I were talking yesterday about how you might do something dumb again and I might be the only one able to stop you."

Keith and Pidge shot one another a surprised glance, "Wow, that was… honest."

Keith's eyes widened, realizing what that might've meant, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean? What were you guys talking about?"

He tried to sound casual, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Pidge bite their lip to keep from laughing, and silently willed them to contract laryngitis.

"Just… you know," Lance bit his lip, seeming suddenly unsure, and Keith's anxiety spiked, "Stuff. We were all kinda stressed out about the whole syringe thing, so we got to talking on the car ride back, and Shiro pointed out that we're a good team, and that I can get you to do stuff since, you know, we're always competing, so…"

He trailed off and Keith breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn't thought his brother would out him, but Keith _had_ been in a semi-coma at the time, so there really was no precedent to this case scenario.

"So Shiro thinks I can't watch after myself," Keith sat back, folding his arms, "That's nice."

"That's not fair," Lance met his eyes in the rearview mirror, "He just wants to make sure you're safe-"

"And not doing anything stupid. I get it." Keith pouted.

"To be fair," Pidge pointed out, "Your decision-making hasn't exactly been the best lately."

"Lately?" Lance snorted, "Remember that time back at the Garrison when he got suspended a week for throwing an eraser at Professor Iverson?"

"Or that time he got caught filling Iverson's office with water balloons?" Pidge laughed, "Or when you two had a yearlong competition to see who could hit the gym teacher with a ball first?"

"Okay, but to be fair have you ever actually _seen_ a gym teacher get hit with a ball?" Lance asked, eyes wide, "It's just weird!"

"Oh oh oh, and didn't it end with Keith accidentally hitting Iverson in the head with a Frisbee the _one time_ he came to inspect gym class?"

"Oh man," Lance grinned, turning to Keith who was still pouting, "you _really_ hated Iverson."

"He was a dick." Keith rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that his hatred actually stemmed from Iverson's mistreatment of Lance.

"Fair enough." Lance agreed, and Keith could tell he was thinking of the way Iverson used to compare him to Keith; which, was actually where their rivalry had first begun.

When he thought about it, if it weren't for Iverson, Keith would probably have never become - somewhat - friends with Lance and Hunk back then. Of course he'd known Pidge through their brothers' friendship, but it definitely wouldn't have been the same. Maybe, he thought, he wouldn't have been so heartbroken over Lance if it wasn't for Iverson…

As this thought popped into his head, Keith studied the way Lance's hand moved animatedly as he spoke, straying despairingly far from the steering wheel. He studied way Lance grinned with his entire face at whatever old memory Pidge had brought up, and his laugh that was equal parts endearing and contagious…

The sunlight through the windshield seemed to arc toward him just to play games with his eyes, almost as if Lance could bend gravity itself. He could certainly bend Keith's heart.

Keith wasn't sure what changed, but the Lance behind the wheel was _his_ Lance. Keith could still hear the edge in his voice, and the careful way his eyes scanned the sides of the road, but for the most part he recognized Lance clearly for the first time in nearly half a year.

Keith smiled softly to himself. Even if it weren't for Iverson, there was no way in the world Keith _wouldn't_ have fallen for this boy. If he were to be completely honest, Keith wouldn't have had it any other way.

"…isn't that right, Keith?"

Keith raised his eyebrows, startled out of his reverie, "Uh… right?"

"Hah!" Lance pointed a finger in triumph at Pidge, who shot daggers at Keith with their eyes, "I knew you and Hunk let my cat out of the dorm!"

"Blue was against regulations!" Pidge protested, still glaring death threats at Keith.

"You're against regulations!"

"Yeah well speaking of against regulations," Pidge grinned evilly, "Keith here-"

"Oh look, the city!" Keith interrupted, silently vowing to throw Pidge to the zombies the first chance he got.

Dead silence fell through the truck as Pidge and Keith caught sight of the city's destruction for the first time. Shiro and Lance had been right; it looked like the military had decided to wipe the city off the map.

Skyscrapers were in ruins; charred hulls of unrecognizable buildings loomed darkly around them, and Keith stared wide eyed as they drove past a couple crawlers half melted to the pavement.

"Napalm." Lance piped up, "According to Shiro anyway. They basically flame bombed the city… but judging by these…" Lance gestured through the window as they passed a couple abandoned tanks just sitting in the middle of the road as if it were perfectly normal, "they were unsuccessful in… whatever they were trying to accomplish."

Keith stared silently through the window, mind racing to come up with any sort of positive light he could shed upon the situation. He glanced up at the mirror, and his eyes met Lance's.

"Still think the lab is here?" Lance asked grimly.

Pidge punched his arm reproachfully, but Keith had already been thinking along the same lines. What if it wasn't? He hadn't really allowed himself to consider the possibility, and Keith immediately felt cool denial sink its teeth into his skin.

"It can't hurt just to look."

He saw Lance bite his lip, but he drove on anyway, and Keith suddenly regretted his promise to stay in the car.

On one street corner, they passed a dozen or so zombies huddled around something lying on the ground, and the sickness in Keith's stomach suddenly doubled as he recognized an arm extending from the object.

"If we'd gotten here a few minutes sooner," Pidge muttered quietly, "We could have helped them."

"Remember Rolo and Nyma." Keith quietly reminded them, and he saw their eyes cloud over as they turned away from the window.

"This at least means that there are probably more people around." Pidge estimated, "We'd better be extra careful."

"Good thing we're not getting out of the car." Lance shot Keith a pointed look and Keith folded his arms.

"Right. Good thing."

They spent a good few hours driving around, but nothing struck Keith with particular inspiration, so they decided to take a break and eat the granola bars Pidge had brought along in their backpack.

"Jeez Pidge," Keith raised his eyebrows as Pidge pulled a second box of granola bars out of their bag, along with a box of Cheez-its and three bottles of water, "How much stuff can you fit in that thing?"

They shrugged, "Enough. I also have a knife, some string, a few loose paperclips, aaaand," They drew out the "and," shooting Keith an apologetic look, "the rest of my formula plus an empty syringe."

Pidge held their hands up in defense as Lance's expression grew fierce, "WHY WOULD YOU EVEN-"

"Lance." Keith reached forward and braced a hand on his shoulder, "It's fine. It's good to have a plan b."

"Yeah well the first plan b nearly got you killed." Lance glared between the two of them, and Pidge frowned.

"Actually it kind of saved him."

"It saved him _time_." Lance sighed, "Look, I'm not going to argue with the two of you, but for the record, I think it's a bad idea."

"Noted." Keith replied sarcastically, earning himself a glare from the front seat.

Maybe he was being a little salty, but the nausea still hadn't gone away, and he couldn't blame it on morning sickness anymore. The granola bar wasn't helping, and he could tell Lance was about five seconds away from yelling at him for not eating.

Most of all, he was starting to get jittery and the car was feeling more and more confining by the second; he needed something to do. Something to get him closer to finding the lab.

"Keith."

He glanced up to find Lance attempting to hand him another granola bar and shook his head, trying to seem nonchalant, "Ah… no thanks, my teeth are kind of hurting."

Lance frowned, but Pidge whipped around curiously, "Have you been brushing? It's extremely important, it's not like we can pop into the dentist's."

"Yes, Pidge, I've been brushing my teeth." Keith rolled his eyes, turning to stare out the window.

The edge of a large building caught his eye and Keith rolled down the window to get a better look. He thought he recognized the architecture from somewhere, and as he squinted upward it hit him suddenly.

"Hey Pidge." Keith turned to them with a grin, "Wanna go steal a Tesla Coil?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a lot of hints in this chapter as to Lance's inner feelings on certain things, since this fic is completely from Keith's POV…
> 
> Anyone have any thoughts on this? Was I too obvious/not obvious enough? Should I do more with clueing into the other's feelings?
> 
> (Also I lied, this chapter wasn't as eventful as I'd planned, it was supposed to continue on, but it got too long… sorry about that haha)
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!


	7. Skittles

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Lance!” Pidge tugged hopelessly at his hand.

“No.” Lance glared at them, remaining determinedly glued to the front seat of the truck. Pidge and Keith stood outside his door, Keith holding it open as Lance attempted, unsuccessfully, to pull it shut.

“It’ll take us like five minutes; we’ll be in and out.”

Lance stopped struggling for a moment and turned to Keith incredulously, “You want to detach a nine foot metal lightning generator from the ceiling of a hockey arena without any equipment, and I’m supposed to believe that it’ll only take five minutes?”

Keith shrugged, “We don’t have to take it… we can just confirm that it’s still there and then leave.”

“But-“ Pidge glanced at him imploringly, and Keith shook his head. There was no way Lance would agree to that, and either way Keith _really_ needed to get out of that truck.

“Fine.” Pidge pouted, “We can just see if it’s there and then come back later with Hunk or something.”

“Why do we even need to do that?” Lance gave one last tug at the door and gave up with a sigh, “Why the hell wouldn’t it be there?”

Pidge folded their arms, “Pirates.”

“We’re on land.”

“Land Pirates.”

“Pidge.” Lance smacked his forehead, and Keith bit back a chuckle.

“Come on, please?” Pidge stuck out their bottom lip, kicking Keith in the shin when he snorted derisively, “Please please please please please please please please please please please please-“

“ALRIGHT!” Lance smothered his ears with the heels of his hands, “Alright, alright, fine. We’ll go in really quickly, but only to look! If you so much as pull a screwdriver out of that bag of yours, I will personally carry you back to the truck.”

“Yes!” Pidge pumped a fist into the air and moved to retrieve their crossbow from the back seat. They dumped the box of granola bars and the Cheez-its from their bag, and pulled a few random supplies out from under the seat. Keith wondered vaguely if he had been the only one secretly prepared.

He turned back to Lance and smirked smugly at his dour expression. Lance caught his look and arched an eyebrow at him imperiously, “Don’t pretend this is for Pidge, I know you’re just doing this because you have some weird inability to sit still for five minutes.”

“Hey.” Keith raised his hands in mock surrender, “I’m not denying that, but it’s your dumb ass that agreed to it.”

Keith watched Lance’s expression in amusement as it soured even further and he muttered something under his breath about how Shiro was going to kill him.

“Come on drama queen,” Keith rolled his eyes, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lance shot a glare at him as he jumped lightly out of the truck, “Don’t even go there.”

They carefully picked their way toward the hockey arena; they were only a short distance away, but there was still no telling what could be lurking around corners or down alleys. Keith’s mind drifted to the guy they’d seen being eaten on the street corner earlier.

Lance glanced around anxiously, despite the fact that Keith couldn’t see any zombie within a seventy yard radius, and Keith began to get the unsettling feeling that something was amiss.

The rest of the city was crawling with them, and yet, the closer they got to the rink, the fewer zombies Keith saw. He shook his head, trying to dispel the paranoia; not everything could be a disaster.

“Hey.” Lance jumped as Keith rested a hand on his shoulder, “Stop expecting the worst.”

Lance frowned at him reproachfully and gently shook his hand off his shoulder, “If you expect the worst, then nothing can surprise you.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, but Lance sped up to walk with Pidge, his expression automatically shifting back to neutral.

Perhaps trying to tell Lance what to do wasn’t the best decision, but Keith was getting tired of his pessimism. Actually, he was getting tired of everyone’s pessimism. Which is ironic, considering he’s usually the most pessimistic one on the team.

He missed the old Lance like a bullet to the heart and the little glimpses of his old self that Keith had been gifted with these past few days had just ended up rubbing salt in the wound.

He missed the Lance that was carefree. The Lance that challenged him to pointless races, and laughed with his head thrown back, and didn’t always have to look over his shoulder. He wanted to be able to give Lance his life back, to guarantee his protection, and, perhaps most of all, to never let him out of his sight.

A particularly farfetched notion when Keith couldn’t keep his own well-being in check.

These were all wishes and wants that would have been impossible in the old world. In this new world, they were simply inconceivable… And yet…

Keith watched the back of Lance’s head as he nodded to whatever Pidge was saying, and his memory flashed back to the way he used to watch Lance in class.

Despite the fact that the mere notion of safety was laughable in their current situation, Keith couldn’t help but want that. For him.

Keith was lifted abruptly from his reverie as the building loomed before them, and he sped up to catch up to the other two. His stomach churned uncomfortably, but he pushed it out of his mind.

He would last a quick trip into the building; if this was his last adventure he sure as hell wasn’t going to be rendered useless by a small tummy ache.

“Hey,” He tapped Lance’s shoulder, “we should try the front entrance; if anything that’s probably the easiest place to break into if it’s locked.”

“Okay but we need to hurry up,” Lance heaved a sigh, “It feels like it’s going to rain.”

Keith snorted, “So now you’re a meteorologist? Who made you an expert?”

Lance raised an eyebrow at him as they picked their way along the side of the building, “I’m more of an expert than you.”

Oh. Keith’s brain clicked as he remembered something, “I forgot you grew up around here.”

Lance’s family had moved to Florida from Cuba when he was younger, and he and Hunk had been with them when the end hit. Keith, Pidge, and Shiro had found them halfway back to Texas, on their way to see if the Garrison was overrun. Keith felt stupid as he realized he should have known Lance had been with his family.

“We weren’t all born in the desert, Keith.” Lance glanced back at him with a smirk, and Keith had to stop from rolling his eyes at himself as he felt his heart flutter.

Keith swallowed his heart as Lance turned back around and they approached the entrance, quickly noticing a group of about fifteen zombies milling about near the doors; a small number for such a large building but Keith decided not to focus on this.

The front entrance of the arena consisted of a rather small courtyard containing a bronze statue and a half set up stage. Keith assumed that there’d been some kind of live performance scheduled there before the apocalypse had hit and thanked their lucky star for the extra coverage.

There was a set of blue painted stairs leading up to the doors, and Keith figured that would be their point of access.

The zombies were scattered throughout the courtyard, and Keith was willing to bet there was at least a couple nearby that would come running at the sound of a fight.

He glanced around as Lance tapped his and Pidge’s shoulders, gesturing to a parked car about thirty yards away. As quietly as possible, they snuck over to the car and crouched behind it to come up with a plan. Keith didn’t miss the way Lance positioned himself in front of him, as if shielding him from view.

“We need to get rid of them in order to even reach the entrance.” Pidge stated, “From here it’s hard to see up the steps to know if there are any more between us and the doors.”

“Alright then,” Keith rolled his shoulders back and stood, sliding his sword from its scabbard, “Let’s do this.” He stopped when he felt Lance’s hand gripping the back of his jacket.

“Woah woah woah,” Lance tugged him back and braced a hand on his chest, “You can’t just run out there like a psycho. I say Pidge sneaks around to the other side of the courtyard and starts a fire in that dumpster over there, while you and I make a break for the door and wait for them to join us.”

Keith glanced over to the dumpster, which sat an innocent forty yards away, and then back at Lance. He knew Lance was just trying to protect him, but his breathing down Keith’s neck was starting to get irritating.

“Or,” Keith suggested, “Pidge could set the fire and we could kill the herd from behind while they’re distracted.”

“Mhm,” Lance folded his arms, “And what are we going to do if the noise attracts a second herd? Or if we meet trouble inside and I run out of bullets because I used up half of them out here?”

Keith rolled his eyes, feeling his veins already buzzing with anticipation and hating the fact that deep down he was dying for a fight, “Then let me and Pidge take care of them, there’s only fifteen-“

“Keith.” Lance laid his hands on Keith’s shoulders, “Please, can we just do this my way?”

Keith stared at his determined expression and felt his resolve waver. Perhaps he was being too irritable. Lance just wanted to keep them all safe, and Keith could admit to himself that he wasn’t exactly at his best.

The ever present nausea in his stomach increased as if in agreement, and Keith breathed deeply through the slight tightness in his lungs. The little voice in the back of his head, that was normally rather bad at telling him when to quit, coughed pointedly, and Keith sighed.

“Fine.” Keith’s eyes lowered, and he heard Lance let out a breath of relief.

“Okay, so Pidge,” Lance nodded to them, “Do you have anything to light a fire with?”

Pidge grinned in a way that made Lance and Keith glance at one another in worry and rummaged around in their bag, pulling out a glass bottle, a lighter, a cloth, and three tubes of liquid that Keith couldn’t put a name to.

Two of the tubes Pidge poured into the taller bottle, the third of which they dipped the cloth into before stuffing it into the opening.

“Viola!” Pidge stuffed the remaining supplies back into their bag and held up the bottle.

“Did you just make a Molotov cocktail?” Lance’s eyes widened and he took a step back. Keith couldn’t bring himself to feel surprised and stayed where he was, though he did lean back a few inches. Just to be sure.

“Relax.” Pidge adjusted their glasses nonchalantly, though their evil grin remained in place, “I’ll throw it into the dumpster from a safe distance.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Lance muttered.

“Come on.” Keith rolled his eyes and got into a ready position behind the parked car, “get ready to run.”

Lance sighed and readied himself as Pidge slipped away toward the dumpster, ducking around the abandoned stage.

Keith and Lance stayed crouched behind the car, watching for any signs of trouble. Lance held his arm out in front of Keith’s chest, and Keith had to swallow back a snide remark. If it made him feel better, then Keith could withstand his incessant babysitting for a moment or two.

He took a steadying breath, tensing up as he saw the bottle arc through the air in the distance as if in slow motion.

“Now!” Lance whisper-shouted.

He grabbed Keith’s wrist and sprinted. Keith rolled his eyes and picked up the pace until he was the one pulling Lance. Just to be petty.

His eyes widened as they passed the dumpster, the inside of which completely consumed by flames, and Keith vowed never to get on Pidge’s bad side.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pidge slip out of sight behind the stage and hoped that he had been the only one to see them.

They made it to the steps without incident; all of the zombies were completely enamored by the small explosion, drawn to the dumpster like moths to… well, a flame.

Keith and Lance hit the bottom of the stairs at a sprint, and he felt Lance slide his hand into his as Keith tugged him up the chipping blue stairs.

 Keith nearly laughed at the “Welcome” sigh painted near the top, and felt Lance’s hand squeeze his conspiratorially. He let out a small laugh as his lungs burned from the short run, and Keith winced as his stomach rebelled against the half a granola bar he had managed to force down.

There were five zombies on the landing when they reached the top, and Lance put down the first three before Keith had even registered his hand leaving his.

“No.” Lance put a hand on Keith’s wrist as he reached for his sword, “Let me do this.”

Keith pouted but didn’t argue. He was starting to believe this was a bad idea more and more by the second, but there was no way he was going to tell Lance that.

Lance used his knife to dispatch the last two, and Keith realized belatedly that he was conserving bullets. Lance was preparing for a fight.

“Come on.” Lance gestured toward the door as Pidge joined them from the stairs.

Pidge took one look at the zombies on the ground and turned to Keith who was standing off to the side, unsure what to do with himself, whispering, “He’s still got you in a muzzle?”

Keith nodded, rolling his eyes, and could tell from the sudden tenseness in Lance’s shoulders that he had heard them.

The doors ended up being unlocked, to Keith’s immense surprise, and the three of them entered cautiously. An unlocked door meant there was probably at least a few inside, and with such a huge building they could be anywhere.

The three of them made their way cautiously through the halls and past the concession stands. Keith was nearly shaking with adrenaline, and thought belatedly that he had never felt this unsteady during a fight before. He hurriedly chalked it up to nerves and put the thought out of his head, his eyes automatically searching for a distraction.

“Hey,” Keith said, smirking when Lance jumped in surprise, “They probably have a ton of soda and nonperishable stuff here. We should see what we can find.” Lance seemed about to protest, so Keith broke away and headed for the nearest booth.

“In and out.” Lance smacked his forehead, reluctantly following as Keith made his way behind the counter, “In and out, that’s all I asked!”

Keith ignored him and yanked open the small fridge, wrinkling his nose as the smell of rotten food hit him. It looked like some random employee forgot their lunch when they’d been eaten, and the smell had been trapped in the sealed fridge for months.

He tucked a can of sprite into the pouch on his belt and shut the door quickly. He thought that he’d gotten used to bad smells, since half of his life consisted of hacking apart dead things, but for some reason the smell of that fridge made his head spin uncomfortably.

“Eew.” He turned to find Pidge poking at an unopened bag of nacho cheese, “I guess this stuff actually does go bad.”

The cheese was speckled with brown and green splotches and as Pidge poked at it the cheese wiggled around like jello.

“Disgusting.” Lance wrinkled his nose, “Can we just get out of here?”

“Yeah, fine.” Keith snickered to himself as he noticed a bag of skittles sticking out of his jacket pocket.

They exited the booth, jumping as they heard a crash from the hallway to their left. Lance stepped in front of Keith with such quickness that Keith had to take a step back to keep from cutting him as he whipped his sword from its scabbard. Pidge moved to flank him, and Keith nearly growled in annoyance.

There was a moment of silence, and he heard Lance audibly click the safety off his second gun.

After about ten seconds, just as Keith was about ready to go investigate the noise himself, they saw a figure move about in the dimness, and Lance’s hand arced toward it.

“Wait!” Keith grabbed his arm, and the shot went wide just as the figure came into the light.

“Don’t shoot.” The figure had his hands up as if in surrender, though his expression and body language seemed almost cocky.

“Drop the machete.” Lance’s gun’s didn’t lower, and the guy gave him an unmistakable once over.

Keith felt his temper flare as the guy smiled at them, his eyes never leaving Lance, “You have no idea how nice it is to see some friendly faces.”

“The whole friendly part depends on you, buddy.” Lance growled, his eyes narrowing, “Drop the machete.”

“Anything for the pretty one.” The guy dropped his weapon on the ground with an audible clatter, and laughed as the three of them flinched, “Oh don’t worry, my companions and I have been camped out here for a few months, the undead have been completely wiped out from the building.”

“Companions?” Pidge asked, narrowing their eyes, “Where are they?”

The guy shrugged casually, “They left this morning for supplies, I don’t expect them to be back until sunset at least.”

Keith caught Pidge’s eye and he knew they were both thinking of the zombie food on the street corner. They made a silent agreement not to speak up. There was something about this guy that seemed slimy; and it wasn’t just the fact that he hit on Lance.

“What’s your name?” Lance asked skeptically.

The guy grinned, twirling a strand of long white hair around one finger, “Call me Lotor.”

“That’s a weird name.” Keith grunted as Pidge elbowed him reproachfully.

Lotor simply chuckled, “My companion’s names are Sendak, Haggar, and Prorok. My father, Zarkon, was killed a little over a month ago.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. Why was he telling them this much? Either he was trying to get them to trust him by telling them this information, or he was lying through his teeth. Either way, he was way too confident for someone with two guns and a crossbow pointed at his face.

“Might I ask what you’re doing here?” Lotor asked, and then seemed to hesitate, “Or, rather, I suppose if you don’t wish to tell me that’s fine. If you are looking for a place to stay I’m sure we can accommodate you-“

“We’re just here to see if the tesla coil was still here.”

Lance and Keith turned to Pidge in surprise, and they glanced over to them, “It doesn’t hurt to tell him that much.”

“Oh,” Lotor blinked, momentarily taken aback, and Keith thought he noticed a slight shift in the guy’s demeanor, but couldn’t tell for sure as he covered up his surprise with another grin, “I’m not quite sure what a Tesla coil looks like, but I’d be happy to help you find it.”

He gestured to the hallway behind him, and Keith, Pidge, and Lance glanced at one another skeptically. Finally, Lance sighed and nodded, “Fine, we’ll allow you to come with us since we can’t exactly leave you here. But the machete stays where it is, and if you make one false move I’ll put a bullet through each of your eyes.”

Lotor chuckled, the sound grating further on Keith’s fried nerves, “That sounds fine to me. I wish you no harm.”

As the three of them approached him, Lotor moved to walk near Lance, whose guns were still trained on his head.

“You know,” Lotor purred, purposefully walking in between him and Keith, “Perhaps later, I have something _else_ I can show you-“

He was cut off as Keith dropped his sword, his hand shaking in anger, and Pidge turned to him in concern.

“Keith, are you-“

“I’m fine.” Keith bent quickly to retrieve it, his face burning, “Just tripped over that.” He kicked a random bottle angrily, trying to hide the way his hands were still shaking.

Lance’s expression was worried, but Keith realized with a jolt that Lotor’s eyes were trained carefully on his arm.

“Are you injured?” Lotor asked curiously, his eyes still watching Keith’s arm, “When my companions return with supplies, I’m sure-“

“Thanks, but I’m perfectly fine.” Keith spat, and Lance moved over to him, sending Lotor an apologetic expression.

“Pidge, could you explain to Lotor what the coil looks like?” Lance nodded to them, “I just want to talk to Keith for a moment.”

Pidge nodded reluctantly, and Keith noticed with some annoyance that Lotor seemed a bit put off by this turn of events, but Lance had already pulled Keith aside by the arm.

They walked a few paces behind them, and Keith noticed that Lance never clicked the safety off on his guns. There was something extremely unsettling about Lotor, and Keith realized that Lance must have noticed it too.

It clicked suddenly in Keith’s mind that Lotor’s story didn’t make sense. The snackbar they’d raided was untouched, and there was still a fair amount of clutter over the floors.

“If they’d been here for a few months then they’d have used up all the food here before going out on a supply run.” Lance muttered under his breath, his eyes still trained on the back of Lotor’s head.

Keith blinked, trying not to think too much into the way that he and Lance were automatically on the same page.

“I guess it doesn’t make him automatically guilty. He could just be protecting his friends. But don’t let your guard down.”

Keith nodded. He had been thinking along the lines of tying Lotor up and leaving him for his friends – or a couple walkers – to find, but Lance still managed to keep at least a little faith in humanity.

As they walked, Lotor kept shooting Lance glances over his shoulder, but every time he did, Keith narrowed his eyes and eventually Lotor seemed to get the message.

Keith’s chest still ached, and his stomach was still revolting, and as they walked the pain increased with every step. His morning nausea had morphed slowly throughout the day to pain that Keith knew would turn crippling if left unchecked.

 _Stupid._ He nearly smacked himself in the forehead. He’d attempted to ignore his symptoms as long as he could, and now they’d encountered a potentially dangerous person, that may or may not have friends in the wings, and he was pretty much about to fall out of commission.

It wasn’t bad enough that he had to stop, but it was to the point that he had to let Lance know. At the very least. Tugging on his sleeve, Keith opened his mouth to tell him when he heard a quiet thumping coming from the door to their left.

Lotor must have heard it before him since he lunged for the door too quickly for Keith to react, shoving Pidge out of the way. Since Lance’s attention had been caught by Keith he didn’t raise his gun in time to stop him from throwing the door open, revealing a dozen or so zombies.

“Damnit!” Pidge whipped around, stunned by the sudden attack, “Lotor!”

“Sorry.” Lotor grinned at them as he backed away slowly, grinning from ear to ear, “It’s nothing personal, but it’s a dog eat dog world right? Someone has to be the wolf-”

He cut off as Lance fired a shot above the crowd of zombies, and Keith thought he saw a spurt of blood from where Lotor had disappeared, “Fuck off, Chihuahua.”

Keith burst out laughing as the herd closed in, and he heard Pidge shout, “As funny as that was, this is not the time!”

Keith felt adrenaline fill his veins, and knew that his sympathetic nervous system would hold him up for a little while. At least he hoped.

The door Lotor had opened was one of the locker rooms, and a few of the zombies still had on hockey equipment, as though they’d tried to use it as armor.

Keith grunted with the extra effort it took him to slash through the padded uniforms; it was costing him much needed stamina, and as he cut through his third walker, he felt one grab his shoulder.

Keith winced as brain matter splashed against the side of his face, and glanced over to find Lance turning away, eyes wide despite his steady hands. Keith pivoted to find his next target, and swung his sword hard, feeling a new burst of adrenaline. When this was over he’d be lucky if he could remain upright.

“Every time a 9mm rings, an angel gets its wings!” Keith cracked up as Lance fired his guns, and walkers hit the floor in rapid succession.

Pidge whipped around, their jaw dropping open comically, as they stabbed a zombie in the eye, “Lance! Stay out of my Deadpool collection!”

“No way, Pidgeon,” Lance shot a zombie over Keith’s shoulder with such precision that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight, “Your fault for having good taste in comics!”

Keith grinned at them both, ignoring the ache in his arm as he swiftly decapitated a zombie. Fighting alongside them like usual was the best type of medicine he could have asked for.

Even if they were both obviously working double time to keep zombies away from Keith, it was still so fucking _normal_ that Keith could’ve cried with relief.

Then again, if Lance was joking around, that meant that he had very little confidence in their chances of survival. So there was _that_ , but then again, Keith _had_ often thought to himself that he would give his life to hear another one of Lance’s corny jokes.

Though, he thought, glancing up at the ceiling, if the universe could quit being so literal, he’d really appreciate it.

The fight got ugly as more walkers emerged from the open doorways, and the three of them did their best to shut as many as they could manage, nearly getting split up in the process.

Keith felt his strength weaning just as the crowd began to thin, and he thanked his lucky star that he had managed to even make it through this much of the fight feeling the way he was.

“Lance…” Keith called out. He didn’t want to worry or distract him, but it was getting to the point where it had to be said. It would be more of a detriment to them if Keith collapsed without a word.

“You’re sick again, I know.” Lance said shortly and Keith risked a glance at him, “I noticed it when we were walking with Lotor.”

Keith ducked as one of Pidge’s knives whizzed over his head, and backed up, leaning against the wall gratefully as they maneuvered in front of him. Keith wiped sweat from his forehead as the floor spun around him, and cursed inwardly at not being able to help out his friends.

Suddenly, as Lance stepped out to shoot over Pidge’s shoulder, a zombie approached him from behind and Keith summoned all of his willpower, pushing roughly away from the wall and driving his sword up and into the zombie’s jaw, straight through to where its pituitary gland should be.

“Keith!”

Keith spun and watched as the zombie just behind him droped to the floor, its head peppered with bullets.

It was only a moment, but it was enough of a distraction for a zombie to get close to Lance, and Keith had a moment of déjà vu as his vision went red and he threw himself in between them.

His swing wasn’t as powerful as he had intended, and his sword ended up stuck in the zombie’s ribcage. Keith lifted a hand and grabbed it by the throat, just barely keeping it’s gnashing teeth away from his face as he attempted to wrench his weapon free. His arm burned, and in the back of his mind he heard an angry shout.

Suddenly Lance appeared beside him and drove a blade into its temple. Keith sighed with relief, his ears ringing from the sudden silence, and he glanced around to find that the hallway had been cleared.

Lance stood beside him, and Pidge was a few feet away. They all took a moment to catch their breath, wincing as Pidge fired a bolt at something on the floor.

They shrugged at Keith and Lance’s expressions, “I saw it move.”

Keith had just enough time to shake his head in amusement before he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?!”

Keith felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as his back hit the cold cement wall, Lance’s hand planted roughly into his chest.

“Um,” Keith coughed, shooting him a reproachful look, “that I could save you? I’m dead anyway, you aren’t.”

Lance grit his teeth and backed away with a shove, “You’ve already saved me. Don’t do something like that again.”

Keith glared at him, “How about a thank you? You’d probably be bitten if it weren’t for me.”

Lance was silent for a moment, eyeing him up and down before dropping his gaze, “Sorry. I’m just…” He broke off and kicked a wall in frustration.

Keith nodded, sliding down to sit on the floor tiredly, “I understand completely.”

Lance and Pidge both moved over to join him on the floor, and Keith heaved a sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you guys like that.” The unspoken “again” hung in the air between them like a bridge and Lance nodded.

“You’re fine. I’d have probably done the same.”

Keith felt insane laughter bubble up in his chest, which quickly turned into a hacking cough, and Lance and Pidge glanced at  him worriedly, “Sorry,” he choked out, “It’s just that all this is over a stupid coil.”

Lance shook his head, “I would say I told you so, but I think you’ve learned enough of a lesson for today, huh?”

Keith bumped his arm playfully, before turning to Pidge, “Are we still going to look for it or what? Time’s running out before dark, and we came all this way-“

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Lance bit his lip, glancing at the way Keith held his arm against his chest, “You’re probably running on adrenaline and nerves right now-“

“I have you to protect me.” Keith grinned lopsidedly at him, and watched Lance swallow thickly.

He felt it psychically as Pidge rolled their eyes and pushed themselves off the floor, “Well, if Lance is your great protector, then he can carry you the rest of the way, but I’m gonna catch a glimpse of that coil if it kills me.”

“Please don’t say that out loud.” Lance glanced worriedly up at the ceiling, and Keith held back a grin as he was helped up off the floor.

He hated having to lean on Lance like this - literally - but it was worth it if they got to see what they’d come for. Besides, Keith couldn’t really complain about having Lance’s arm around his waist, even if it was for the opposite reason than he would’ve liked.

It took them longer than any of them cared to admit, but finally they stumbled across the entranceway to where the ice would normally be, and Lance whistled as they entered the vast room, eyeing the thousands of empty seats.

Keith wondered idly if there were even that many people left in the world.

“Going by the one hockey game I’ve ever watched,” Pidge tapped their chin, “the coil should be right… up…” they traced an imaginary line across the ceiling and paused as the three of them registered the empty space.

“Who the fuck!?” Pidge looked about ready to tear their own hair out, “Stole a nine foot tesla coil in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse?!”

“Uh, I dunno Pidge,” Lance raised an eyebrow, “Maybe someone like you?”

“It probably wasn’t Lotor, at the very least.” Keith theorized.

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, “If I had to guess I’d say he’s been here for only a day or two at most… Plus, judging by the fact we saw his friend being eaten in the street I’m willing to guess they don’t have the equipment, people, or purpose to steal it.”

Keith opened his mouth to add to the theory when he felt his legs begin to shake beneath him, and Lance tightened his grip, “Come on, we can theorize more in the car, but right now we need to leave.”

They made their way dejectedly through the halls, and as they neared the front entrance Keith realized that Lotor must have escaped the building as he noticed the machete gone from the spot where they’d left it.

At the doors Lance stopped dead in his tracks, and Keith nearly fell over as his arm slackened momentarily. He glanced around through the windows and his stomach sank as he registered a group of zombies huddled around another body.

He hadn’t exactly liked Lotor, and after his stunt with the walkers Keith couldn’t say he was too distraught, but it still wasn’t a pleasant sight to witness.

There was a bloody handprint on the door handle, and Keith assumed that Lance’s bullet had found its mark. He glanced at Lance’s face worriedly, though it betrayed no emotion other than determination as he hauled Keith’s ass through the door.

Keith knew there would be emotional repercussions; Lance had just practically killed a person, but he assumed that the action hadn’t  actually registered in his mind yet, what with all the stress and adrenaline coursing through him.

They stepped through the entrance into the muggy Florida air and Keith blinked as a rain drop hit his nose.

“Don’t say I told you so.” Pidge turned from Lance’s smug expression, and hopped lightly down the steps. The zombies completely ignored them, as they gleefully tore apart their newest meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being much longer than I intended so I cut it up into pieces. I’m still working on the second half, but it should be up tomorrow.  
> Or rather later today haha….  
> Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated!


	8. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed!!

They were all soaked down to their underwear within ten seconds of walking, though Keith couldn't say he minded.

The rain was warm, and it felt soothing against his skin. Keith stopped to watch as the water washed off the blood and gore from his hands, and Lance had quickly shrugged off his jacket and thrown it over Keith's shoulders.

Keith was torn between wanting to cuddle into Lance's jacket and wanting to feel the rain on his skin, so he settled for a compromise as Lance all but stuffed him into it, muttering about catching a cold, and left the hood down, closing his eyes and pausing momentarily as he let the water roll down his face in soothing rivulets.

It reminded him of the storms back home that occasionally used to threaten to drown the desert. When he was younger, Shiro used to stand in the doorway with him to watch the lighting as it illuminated the cracked earth and stone cliffs for miles.

Keith smiled to himself wistfully, though all too soon he was shaken out of his reverie as Pidge coughed pointedly, "Sorry, but we really need to go."

Keith nodded glumly and turned to Lance, who slipped an arm around his waist without meeting his eyes, and Keith wondered if he had done something wrong.

Despite the rain, the trip back to the truck was blissfully uneventful, and Pidge managed to take out anything in their path from a decent distance. When they arrived however, Keith stopped short, causing Lance to lurch to a halt as well as he registered the sight before him.

"Oh come on!" Lance threw his free arm up in the air, and Keith clapped a hand over his mouth quickly, thankful for the extra cover the rain provided them.

The truck was completely surrounded by zombies. Keith could just barely detect a faint ringing coming from that direction and shot Pidge a sideways glance. Their eyes widened, and they rubbed the back of their neck sheepishly.

"Well, I guess they found my emergency ringer prototype…"

"Half our stuff is in there…" Lance moaned, and Keith squeezed the arm around his shoulder reassuringly.

"Hunk and Shiro can come back for it tomorrow, let's just go find a new car before they spot us." He suggested quietly.

Lance nodded glumly, and allowed Pidge to lead the way away. After walking half a block, they managed to find a clunky old car in the middle of the street with the keys lying abandoned on the dashboard.

Lance was skeptical about the amount of gas left, but Pidge assured him that it should be enough to get them back to camp. They didn't seem very confident, but none of them wanted to risk the amount of time it would take to find another car and hotwire it.

Surprisingly, Pidge ended up being the one behind the wheel, as Lance sat with Keith in the backseat. Well, "sat" was a relative term. Lance had gone to deposit Keith, and Keith had sort of "forgotten" to let go of his shoulders, and the two of them just kind of ended up in a pile; both too tired to move.

"Pidge." Lance moaned, and Keith fought to keep the blush from spreading to his face, "can you drive?"

"Last time I drove you swore that you would stake yourself in the heart before you experienced my driving ever again."

"That was because I was teaching you," Lance straightened up, struggling to buckle in an uncooperative Keith, "and you destroyed a mailbox."

"Dented." Pidge rolled their eyes, shoving the gear into drive, "I dented a mailbox."

"You dented my car, that's for sure."

Pidge flipped him off from the front seat and Lance snickered, buckling himself in as the rusty old car began to move and they were finally on their way out of the city.

It was nothing like the last time Keith and Lance had driven away from disaster in a stolen car. This time there was no sense of euphoria, no giddy liberation as they came off their adrenaline high. The windows remained shut tight, though Keith doubted the car even had working AC to appreciate in the first place.

They were dripping all over the backseat - though he didn't think the old owner would mind much - and Keith got the sudden overwhelming urge to kiss the rain from Lance's lips.

Instead, he simply watched as Lance rubbed a hand over his tired face before stretching his arms above his head. Keith swallowed as his shirt rode up across his stomach and turned his attention quickly to the effort of sitting up straight.

His body felt like he'd been steam rolled, and as he struggled to sit up Keith realized that he was shaking. The adrenaline was fading from his system fast, and he swallowed thickly as his brain started up a drum roll against the side of his skull.

"Hey."

Keith turned toward Lance's voice wordlessly, trying unsuccessfully to breathe through the pain, and Lance laid a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright?"

Keith shook his head.

"Right, of course," Lance winced, "Dumb question."

Keith shot him a wry smile, and Lance returned it uncertainly. Keith felt another wave of nausea threaten to overtake him, and closed his eyes tightly, wishing he could just fall asleep and stop the pain for a few hours.

He tensed as he felt hands on his shoulders, guiding him gently to the side, and opened his eyes to find Lance's arm around him, his head carefully tucked into his shoulder.

At his questioning glance Lance chuckled nervously and lifted a hand to ruffle his hair, "You looked like you could use some shut eye. I've been told I'm a very good pillow."

Keith recognized the wistful look in Lance's eyes and knew he was referencing his siblings. Keith nodded gratefully and sighed in contentment, not caring if it was weird as he breathed in Lance's scent.

He smelled like dirt, sweat, and Lance. There was really no other word for it. It was a surprisingly intoxicating combination of the cheap pomegranate shampoo they'd scavenged, and warm Florida rain.

Lance's hand stayed where it was, and the feeling of his fingers slowly sifting through Keith's damp hair almost made him forget the pain in his body.

"I'm sorry." Keith mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the way Lance's fingers felt, "I shouldn't have pushed us to go in."

"Don't be." Lance whispered, "I'm the dumb ass who agreed to it, remember?"

Keith frowned, still keeping his eyes shut against the dying light shining through the windshield, "It was a dumb and impulsive risk that we shouldn't have taken… I… I just…" He trailed off and felt Lance sigh beneath him.

He was quiet for a moment and Keith wondered if he was going to say anything at all when he suddenly whispered lowly, "Don't go gentle into that good night - rage, rage against the dying of the light."

His voice was soft, and Keith knew that he understood.

His frustration and pent up spite at the world, the universe, and everything in between had blinded him. His desperate and fruitless need to fight fate had driven him into a corner, and this had been the result.

Keith smiled softly, "I love that poem."

"You would." Lance's hand stopped moving and Keith nearly groaned, "But please promise me not to let it get the better of you again. I'll promise to do the same, because we both know it's driving me crazy too."

Keith nodded and felt Lance relax. His new resolve settled into his stomach like a swallowed pill, and Keith knew he'd finally hit acceptance.

Keith's nerves had settled down. His head, stomach, and muscles were still plotting his slow demise, but he no longer felt the incessant buzzing beneath his skin. The lab floated in his memory like a watered down dream, and he finally felt the grip of his mind loosen its hold.

Without thinking, he threw caution into the wind and unclicked his seatbelt, curling himself into Lance's side.

To his surprise, instead of protesting, Lance tightened the arm around his shoulder and Keith felt his cheek rest against the top of his head.

His heart felt ready to burst, but Keith knew he couldn't say anything. In the limited time he had left he didn't want to put a weight like that on Lance's shoulders, and he'd definitely prefer his last hours with the group to be as normal as possible.

Keith opened his eyes briefly and caught Pidge's gaze in the rearview mirror. He had nearly forgotten they were there, but the look they gave Keith was surprisingly devoid of ridicule. If he were to put a name to their expression it would be somber.

Perhaps their escapade with death that day had been a blessing in disguise. They were all more aware of Keith's fate than they had been before, and in a way, it acted as a sort of closure for them. One last hurrah.

Keith felt Lance's hand leave his hair after a few minutes and heard the crinkling of a wrapper. He glanced down to find that Lance had rediscovered the packet of skittles he'd stolen from the rink.

He offered some to Keith, and although Keith didn't think sugar was a good idea for him at the moment, he accepted one anyway. They were the mixed berry kind, and Keith selected the blue one, which were usually his favorite kind.

He sucked on it for a moment, wondering if it would turn his tongue blue but spit it out quickly after his stomach gave an unpleasant lurch.

Lance snorted beside him and craned his neck to see where the skittle had landed, "You could've just said no."

Keith frowned, "I love skittles."

He bit back a grin as Pidge burst out laughing from the front seat, and Lance heaved an exaggerated sigh, "What am I going to do with you?"

Keith shrugged, tucking his head back into Lance's neck as his mind conjured up a few ideas of things Lance could do with him.

The car ran out of gas just as they reached the entrance of the pathway at the edge of the woods. Pidge let out a quiet stream of curses, and slapped the dashboard but that was just how their luck seemed to be running that day.

The engine coughed out a disappointing eulogy before finally kicking the bucket, and Pidge threw their door open, kicked at the front tire for good measure, and circled around to retrieve their bag. Lance opened his door and stepped out as well, offering a hand to Keith.

The rain had stopped somewhere along the car ride back, much to Keith's disappointment, and the air was filled to the brim with the kind of humidity that Keith could feel in the back of his throat.

"Uh," Lance and Pidge watched on doubtfully as Keith awkwardly climbed out of the backseat, stumbling over a stick on the rain softened ground, "Can you walk?"

" _Yes_ , I can walk." Keith straightened his back, trying to hide his embarrassment. It was dumb, and he was sick, but it was still degrading.

Lance and Pidge exchanged a dubious glance and Lance sighed, quickly bending over. It was a testament to how badly Keith's reflexes sucked at the moment that Lance was able to effortlessly sweep him into his arms.

Keith yelped and slung his arms around Lance's neck, "Don't do that!"

"Oh come on," Lance arched an eyebrow, "you're going to try and tell me that you can walk all the way up the hill-"

"No, I mean don't swing me around or I'll puke on you." Keith puffed out his cheeks to get his point across, and Lance grimaced.

"Noted, but if you do throw up please do so on Pidge."

"Hey!"

Lance chuckled and swung Keith toward them jokingly. Pidge jumped back, and Keith grabbed a hold of Lance's ear, "I. Will. Puke. Down. Your. Shirt."

"Ow, ow, ow, okay!" Lance winced as Keith released his ear and settled his arms back around Lance's neck.

Pidge cackled and started off up the hill. Keith simply smirked at Lance, "Well, Balto? Mush."

Lance heaved a tortured sigh as he began trudging up the hill, "You're making me regret being nice to you. I could've let you try to walk on your own, you know."

"No, you wouldn't." Keith grinned at him and Lance rolled his eyes.

"Does this whole "Ultimate Protector of Keith" thing include not leaving you on the side of a hill as zombie food? Because that option is starting to look tempting."

Keith opened his mouth to retort when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Following Keith's gaze, Lance spotted the group of walkers with a scowl.

"Can't catch a break today, huh?"

There were about five or six heading toward them, and Pidge pulled the knife from their belt with a sigh, "Lance, I'm gonna need help."

"Right." Lance lowered Keith to the ground slowly, careful not to jostle him, and straightened up, pulling his own knife from his belt. He turned briefly to Keith and fixed him with a pointed stare, "Stay."

Keith rolled his eyes and made a point of settling himself on the ground, "Yes, master."

Lance snorted in amusement and turned to help Pidge with the zombies. Keith watched as he deftly stabbed one in the head and swiftly moved on to the next, casually stretching his arm as he went.

It was like nothing to them. The zombies weren't even humanoid anymore in their eyes, but for some reason all Keith could think, as Lance and Pidge put down one after the other, was that these things were once him.

Finally the last one fell, and Lance wiped at a smear of blood on his cheek, turning back to Keith and frowning at his mixed expression.

"Lance." Pidge pointed behind Keith, and he turned to find yet another walker a couple yards behind him.

The zombie slowly shambled toward them, and just as Keith's mind registered the sound of Lance's gun, he watched it hit the dirt. All Keith could feel was an imaginary bullet passing through his own skull, tearing apart brain tissue like paper.

He imagined Lance having to be the one to do it and felt himself begin to retch.

"Woah, hey!" Lance hurried over, stowing away his gun, and knelt down beside him as Keith emptied what little contents his stomach had to offer onto the forest floor.

"I thought you were kidding about the whole puke thing." Lance rubbed his back, and Keith wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, ready to be sick again just over the taste on his tongue.

"Come on," Lance gently lifted him back into his arms, "Shiro's probably worried."

Keith nodded, curling himself into a ball against Lance's chest attempting in vain to ignore the pounding in his skull.

Shiro and Hunk came running up to them as they reached the top of the hill, probably having heard the sounds of the fight, and Shiro's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he registered Keith curled up in Lance's arms.

Wordlessly, Lance led the way back to the RV, insisting on carrying Keith all the way up the steps and over to the couch, sitting down heavily without letting go of him. Keith kept his head on Lance's shoulder, tucking his toes into the corner between the cushions as he breathed through the nausea.

In the back of his mind he listened as Lance explained what had happened, ending it with, "-and he's had a fever since we left the arena."

This was news to Keith, though he supposed it was just like Lance not to tell him something that would just needlessly worry him. He heard Shiro's sharp intake of breath and glanced up at his tight expression, readying himself for a lecture.

"Keith," Shiro began, and everyone else winced, "you should never have gone out if you knew-"

"It's okay, Shiro," Lance gazed up at him, "Keith learned his lesson. I think we all did."

Keith, Pidge, and Lance glanced around at one another, and Keith was relieved to see Pidge nodding as well. Shiro's expression was still stormy, though he could tell he didn't have it in him to chew Keith out, not when he looked and felt this wretched.

"So, you guys didn't find anything?" Hunk spoke up curiously, "not even the coil?"

Pidge shook their head, "No, it's bizarre. It was just gone."

"We'll have to investigate further the next chance we get…" Shiro trailed off as he glanced at Keith, and Keith knew they were thinking the same thing.

He probably wouldn't live long enough to see the answer to this riddle; and although Keith's heart sank at the notion, he was glad they would have something to occupy themselves with when he was gone. A distraction to keep them going.

"I think maybe it's time for bed." Lance announced, and Keith wondered if he had sensed his darkening thoughts, "It's been a long day, and at this point there's nothing we can do, so we might as well wait until tomorrow to come up with a plan."

"Alright," Shiro agreed, "We can go out searching tomorrow while Keith stays here with Hunk. For now I can take him-"

"Wait," Keith shifted away as Shiro reached for him, "Maybe Lance could bring me? We… I mean I, uh, have a few things I need to talk to him about."

He ignored Lance's confused look, and silently willed Shiro to understand what he wanted. He nearly sighed in relief as he recognized the spark of understanding in Shiro's eyes, and he stepped back, making room for Lance and Keith to maneuver around him, "I guess I'll be out here talking over logistics with Hunk and Pidge if you need anything."

Keith nodded, calling out over his shoulder, "Don't take up watch tonight, you took both shifts yesterday!"

Lance smirked and shook his head, hauling Keith to the back bedroom, "You know he's not going to listen to you."

"It's worth a shot." Keith grumbled.

Lance deposited him on the bed and Keith immediately peeled off Lance's jacket along with his soaked shirt and pants before slipping under the covers.

Lance began tucking him in, and at Keith's half amused half confused expression he simply shrugged, "I used to do this for my brother."

Keith couldn't exactly argue with that. When he was firmly nestled under the covers, Lance circled around to the other side of the bed and sat down gingerly, no doubt thinking about the night before.

"So," He started awkwardly, and Keith rolled his eyes.

"It's not weird, don't go there."

"I wasn't going to say that." Lance snorted, "I was going to ask what you wanted to talk to me about."

He seemed suddenly nervous, and Keith could tell by the way his fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket that he had something on his mind.

"I'm not going to dive into a goodbye speech if that's what you're worried about." Keith raised an eyebrow.

"That's…" Lance sputtered, "I didn't think…"

He trailed off awkwardly, and Keith sighed, "I don't actually have anything specific I wanted to talk about, I just wanted to try and fall asleep before Shiro had the chance to lecture me on patience."

It was an outright lie, but the real thing he wanted to talk about with Lance wasn't a topic he would actually bring up in a million years.

"Oh." Lance seemed to deflate, "That's… okay then. Do you want me to, y'know…" he gestured at the door and Keith quickly shook his head.

"No, please stay," Keith winced at how desperate he sounded, "I'd prefer to have someone to talk to."

"Okay." Lance perked up a little and turned to face him, sliding further into the bed, "What do you want to talk about?"

Keith eyed his movements and his open expression despite the dimness in the room, "Lotor." Lance's eyes clouded, and Keith immediately regretted his entire existence.

"What's there to say?" Lance pursed his lips, "He was a dick, and we shouldn't have been so trusting."

"How long do you think he was at the rink?"

Lance bit his lip, "It's hard to say, but I think less than a day. I think he and his "companions" got separated and he found his way there."

Keith nodded, "That was exactly what I was thinking. Did you see how he reacted when Pidge mentioned the coil though?"

"He definitely recognized the word, but they couldn't have been after it." Lance frowned, "I don't understand."

“What’s there to understand?” Keith shrugged, trying to seem unaffected despite his own itching confusion over the whole situation, "He was a dick, and now he's dead."

Lance shot Keith a look out of the corner of his eye, and Keith knew he was busted, "You're trying to figure out if I feel bad about killing him."

Keith raised his eyebrows, "Do you?"

Lance bit his lip, "Does it make me a bad person if I say I don't?"

Keith winced as he propped himself up a bit to get a better view of Lance's expression, "Of course not. He tried to kill us."

Lance nodded, still seeming unsure.

"People like that can't live in a world like this." Keith pushed on, "If he had gotten away then he probably would have hurt someone else. Maybe even us if he got the chance again."

Lance turned to him with a wry smile and reached a hand over to ruffle Keith's hair, "You don't have to keep protecting my feelings. I'm stronger than I look. Which," Keith bit back a smile as he recognized the characteristic gleam in Lance's eye, "Is saying something, because I look fine as hell."

Keith rolled his eyes, trying to act like he wasn't melting under Lance's touch, and realized something suddenly, "You know what?" he began slowly, "I guess I do have something I wanted to bring up…"

"Mhm?" Lance settled back a little against the pillows.

"Uh," Keith's brain short circuited as Lance’s fingers began to play with his hair again, and he struggled to make his tongue work, "I just, wanted to know what changed."

"What do you mean?" Lance seemed a bit taken aback by the question, "Changed?"

"Yeah," Keith pulled himself closer, "your… mood. You just seem more like your old self again. I haven't heard you make a joke like that in months."

Lance's expression stilled for a moment before a wry smile grew across his lips, "I guess you’re right…”

He thought for a moment before continuing, “I guess I just sort of lost all faith in the world when my family…" He trailed off, and his hand stilled in Keith's hair for a brief moment, "When they died. Everything just became so _pointless_ , and my only purpose in life was survival; kind of like how you clung onto the idea of the lab… Jokes and laughter had always been the way I coped with things, but stuff like that just seemed so… futile after I lost the people closest to me."

Keith nodded thoughtfully, studying the way Lance’s eyes searched his as he spoke, "I suspected something like that, after you told me about them."

"Oh, so now you're an expert?" Lance smirked at him and Keith was thankful for the darkness that hid his blush.

"Shut up, you never answered my question," Keith nudged his shoulder playfully, and Lance raised an amused eyebrow, "I still don't understand… what changed?"

For an instant Lance stared at him quietly, and his eyes held something that Keith couldn’t quite identify. It was like Lance knew something he didn’t, and Keith desperately wanted to know what it was.

Eventually, Lance exhaled softly and whispered, "You. You showed me the world is still worth smiling for."

Keith's heart burst in his chest as Lance fixed him with an endearingly earnest expression, and Keith didn't know quite how to articulate the fact that that sentence alone meant more to him than everything else in the universe combined.

"You saved me in more ways than one, Keith." Lance hugged him suddenly, "Thank you."

Keith’s heart pounded in his chest, as he tentatively returned the hug, and it was like every victory, every adrenaline rush, every day spent alive he had ever experienced all pumping through his blood at the same time.

The fact he had been responsible for bringing Lance back, for saving him even, made every ounce of pain so incredibly worth it.

It hurt not being able to voice this thought out loud, but for the moment, Keith could deal with settling. He smiled to himself in the darkness as he felt Lance lazily trace pictures over his back with his finger. If this was settling, Keith would very happily “settle” for the rest of his life. However short that may be.

They remained that way for a few minutes, and Keith had never felt so comfortable in his life despite the dampness of Lance's shirt and the pain in his body. He figured Lance must have felt the same as he showed no signs of moving.

Mustering up his remaining courage, Keith whispered softly, "Please stay here tonight."

He felt Lance tense up, "What about Shiro?"

"He'll be fine." Keith whispered, "I just need you tonight."

Lance nodded slowly against his shoulder. They both knew it was probably the last night of Keith's life, and Keith knew it was rather selfish of him to kick Shiro out, but he would have time to say goodbye tomorrow. There was just so much he still wanted, and needed, from Lance.

Instead of talking, they simply laid there for a long time, though Keith had to admit he was perfectly content to just listen to Lance's breathing.

He was afraid to fall asleep, but the stress and bodily duress from the day eventually caught up to him, and his consciousness eventually shut down without his permission.

His dreams were dark and blurry, and images of the rink haunted him like shadows. Something about Lotor made the back of his mind itch. The way he reacted, how he'd been so quick to throw them to the dead, how he’d tricked them without a moments hesitation.

None of the swirling mess of projected subconscious provided him with any sort of clarification, not that dreams normally did, and after what was probably only an hour or two of sleep, Keith was thrown back into consciousness with a jolt.

The remnants of his dream slipped maddeningly through his memory like water. His eyes strained to see into each dark corner of the room as he felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It was just a dream, he told himself as the room swam around him.

He felt sick, his head was burning, his thoughts were racing a mile a minute, and he couldn't seem to control the wild stream of information flickering through his mind like a VHS on fast forward.

He had to do something to stop his mind, to slow it down, but he couldn't collect his thoughts into any form of coherent idea. Eventually he found the wherewithal to stumble out of bed, and slip on the bare minimum of clothing.

He winced as he glanced back at Lance's sleeping form, and rationalized that he wasn't sneaking out, he just needed some air. He wouldn't go further than three feet from the doorstep.

Keith picked his way slowly through the dark RV unsteadily, miraculously managing not to trip over or bump into anything. His mind refused to register anything around him as it raced with possibilities.

He passed the driver's seat, and if he had been in the right state of mind he would have noticed Shiro passed out, having taken over both shifts again despite doing so the night before.

The cool night air felt wonderful on his feverish skin as Keith paced back and forth. His body still ached, but he couldn't just sit still. The world tumbled around him, and Keith groggily continued his pacing, mulling over his scattered thoughts.

There was something about Lotor. _What_ about Lotor?

He heard a twig snap behind him, and his eyes focused on a shadow just barely visible at the edge of the treeline.

"Shiro?" Keith whispered, peering into the bushes through the dimness. The figure didn't respond, so Keith tried again, "Shiro?"

The figure stepped into a space between two trees, and Keith's swirling mind registered the glint of moonlight off of a sword.

The resulting cacophony from his brain tore his thoughts in two, and the only thing Keith could register in the shattered mess that was his mind was the word _run_. So he did.

Keith turned on his heel and ran through the woods, sprinting as hard as his sore body would allow. In the back of his mind he registered the sting of thorns against his arms and legs, but the pain was nothing compared to the pounding in his head.

The trees floated around him, laughing shadows in the darkness as he tried to outrun the world.

With each step the drive in his mind increased, encouraging him to run, run, run. He was weaponless. Sick. Defenseless. The best he could do was lead this person away from his friends.

His muscles ached, and his empty stomach revolted, but Keith's mind urged him on, promising an end. One way or another.

Whether it was a conscious decision or not, his legs ended up taking him to the waterfall, and in his jumbled state, Keith managed to trip and crash directly into the pool.

His chest burned as he took in a lungful of water, but the sudden silence as he went under brought a strange moment of clarity to his thoughts, and as the screaming died down he realized with a jolt what was so weird about Lotor.

Just as he came to this insane conclusion, the water parted above him and he felt hands on his shoulders pulling him roughly upward. Keith found himself being dragged up onto the muddy bank, his lungs coughing up water like it was their job.

Keith was alive, meaning that the person that pulled him out was probably one of the others, which in turn meant that he had been hallucinating everything else, and the fever still raging through him was most likely cooking his brain from the inside out.

None of that mattered though; his thoughts were still a mess but this new realization rang through his head like a church bell.

The missing coil. Lotor. The message over the radio all those months ago…

He turned to announce his epiphany to his savior when the words died in his mouth. He hadn't been hallucinating after all. Crouching over him was a complete stranger.

Keith struggled to crawl back and away, but the person simply grabbed his ankle, holding him in place. Keith was too weak to fight back, and his little swim had left him soaking and shivering on top of that. As he gazed into the person's smug expression, Keith knew he was dead.

"I've got him," The stranger addressed his sentence to a shadowy figure behind him, "Haggar. And look at this."

Keith struggled weakly as the man reached forward and grabbed his arm, yanking back what remained of his tattered sleeve to unveil the bite, and Keith realized in horror that his bandage had slipped off in the water.

"My my," Hagger lifted back her hood, fixing Keith with a wicked grin, "What have we here?"

**A/N**

Fixed!


	9. Loose Ends

Keith's head swam as he sat slumped against a tree with his hands bound tightly behind his back. Through the leaves above him, he could just barely see the sky beginning to lighten, and silently prayed for Lance to wake up and discover him missing.

Haggar stood a few feet away along with the man who'd pulled him out of the water; the two argued back and forth in quiet whispers, just low enough that Keith couldn't quite make out what they were saying. He tried to focus his mind, but found this to be increasingly difficult as his eyelids drooped shut of their own accord.

"Keep him awake!"

Keith jolted as a hand struck him sharply across the face. His entire body ached, and Keith glared up at the one who'd slapped him as if to say; thanks for making it worse, asshole.

"If we let him fall asleep now he may not wake up. He'll be of no use to us as one of the dead." Haggar sneered down at him and Keith forced himself to sneer back.

The two continued their argument quietly, though now a few feet closer, and Keith struggled through the pain and nausea wracking his body to catch some of what they were saying.

"-has to be. The bite looks more than two days old! A wound that deep-"

"We can't be sure."

"He was alone, running through the woods. He never would have made it this long if he weren't-"

"Shh. He's listening."

Keith hastily did his best to make it seem like he was still completely delirious – which, wasn't exactly hard - but tensed reflexively as he heard footsteps approaching. Keith winced as his head was yanked up sharply and his eyes met Haggar's with reluctance.

"What is your name?"

Keith swallowed thickly. It wasn't like a name held much weight in a world where death ran the government, but he still felt rather uneasy revealing his real name to her, particularly as he was being held captive against his will.

Despite this, Keith sensed the danger in lying to her, and eventually opted for just his first name, "Keith."

Haggar nodded, slowly crouching until they were face to face, "I am going to ask you some questions, Keith, I will know if you lie." She pulled a wicked looking hunting knife from her belt, pressing it to his chest, and Keith nodded reluctantly.

"Where are you from?"

Simple enough. "Texas."

Haggar's eyes narrowed, "You wouldn't happen to be a Garrison brat, would you?"

Keith's blood ran cold, "Garrison?"

"Yes, the Garrison. The boarding school for young engineers, pilots, and future astronauts." Keith assumed by her sour expression that the Garrison wasn't high on her list of preferred destinations.

Keith shook his head slowly, hoping his acting was better than Lance liked to say it was, "Never heard of it."

Haggar's eyes narrowed, and she turned to her companion, who immediately gestured to Keith emphatically, "If he _is_ from the Garrison, then this can't possibly be a coincidence-"

"Shush, Prorok." She turned back to Keith, "Why are you here now?"

"Looking for family."

"No." Haggar shook her head, digging the knife a little into his skin, "You're not."

"A friend of mine died in Texas," Keith said hurriedly, "I came here to get away from the memories."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either; Keith knew it would be a bad idea to mention the lab. Most people would assume he was just crazy, but on the off chance these two believed him, Keith wasn't going to be the one to lead them there.

Haggar scowled, "There is more to this story, or else you would have told it to me in the first place. Why here?"

"A friend of mine had family in the area." Keith again opted for a half truth.

He assumed this was the wrong thing to say as Haggar suddenly tensed, "Which friend?"

Keith swallowed, feeling the knife dig a little deeper into his skin, "His name was Lance."

Haggar's eyes narrowed, and Keith coughed as his chest throbbed, "Is this Lance the only one you knew with family here?"

"Yes."

Haggar grit her teeth, but before she could open her mouth, a bolt whistled through the trees, striking a trunk just beside Prorok's head.

Keith turned in time to see Shiro emerge through the trees, his crossbow aimed steadily at Prorok. Just behind him was Hunk, wielding his baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

Lance emerged last, one gun trained on each of the strangers, his expression fierce. Pidge was nowhere to be seen, but Keith quickly figured they were in the area somewhere acting as long range back up.

This was usually Lance's job, though Keith guessed based on his expression that he had traded. He met Lance's desperate eyes for a quick moment, but before Keith had the chance to say anything, Haggar had pulled him to his feet and slid her knife up against his throat.

"Come closer and he dies." Haggar hissed.

No one from the group moved a muscle, but Keith watched Shiro's eyes travel up and down his body, obviously checking for any injuries, before turning back to Haggar furiously.

Keith flinched, feeling the blade dig slightly into his neck as his two captives whispered furiously back and forth.

"He _is_ with a group."

"They can't all possibly be from-"

"Exactly what I told you before. They are not with the daughter of Alfor."

"Shut up!" Shiro advanced forward, his crossbow trained on Keith and Haggar, "Let him go, you're outnumbered!"

"You wouldn't sacrifice the life of your companion!" Haggar growled.

"What makes you so sure?" Everyone turned to Lance in surprise, as he stared Haggar down with steel in his eyes, "He's dying anyway."

Keith's body had begun to shake, his muscles aching with sleep deprivation and stress, and he could tell Haggar felt it as she held him before her as a shield, "You wouldn't have come to rescue him."

"Maybe we weren't rescuing him." Lance sneered in a way that made Keith's heart ache, despite the fact that he knew it was fake, "Maybe we were hunting you."

Haggar paused for a brief moment, before chuckling lowly, "No, you're bluffing. I saw the look you gave him when I pressed this knife to his throat. You would not sacrifice his life for your _own_."

Lance winced, his eyes darting desperately back to him, and Keith tried to nod in encouragement. It had been a nice try… Keith knew that just by the state he was in, there was no use for him to try to fight back; which meant it was all up to the others to rescue him, as humiliating as that was.

"Please." Shiro sighed, lowering his crossbow slightly, "Just give him back. We have food, weapons, medicine, anything you need. Just give him back and we can all walk away from this."

"We need nothing." Haggar hissed.

"Haggar-"

"Silence!" Haggar shouted, and Prorok shrank back, "What we need is him as bait."

"What makes you think they would even want him in this condition?"

"Alfor's daughter is not one to turn down the sick and injured." Haggar turned back to the rest of the group, "The rest of you may live, for now, but we will be taking him with us."

"Over my dead body." Lance stepped forward abruptly, and everyone jumped at the sound of his gun.

They all watched in stunned silence as Prorok hit the ground, his newly gaping eye socket pointed directly toward Haggar and Keith. Lance's eyes never wavered, "Give him back. I won't hesitate."

They all stood in staggered silence, staring down at the dead body splayed over the ground, before Haggar hissed and Keith grimaced, feeling warmth on his throat as the knife dug further into his neck, "You forget who has the knife here."

"You forget who you're dealing with." Pidge's voice came from behind them, and Keith grinned as he realized they'd snuck up behind them.

For a tense moment, Keith thought Haggar would fight it, but as Lance's arm arced back toward them she sighed and lowered the knife, "I know when I've been beaten."

Shiro and Hunk hurried forward to secure her, and Keith sank to the ground in relief, barely managing to stay conscious as wave after wave of relief and pain washed over him.

"Keith."

He struggled to raise his head, watching as the tension drained from Lance's eyes and he raced over to him, sinking to the ground and wrapping him up in his arms.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

Keith rolled his eyes and coughed weakly, "It's not like I tried to get kidnapped-" He was cut off as Lance squeezed the air out of his lungs, burying his face in Keith's neck.

Pidge came over to rescue him, but Lance wouldn't let go so they just ended up joining in on the hug, which was soon disrupted as Hunk literally lifted them all into the air.

"Guys, guys! I think you're hurting him." Shiro laid a hand on his shoulder once Hunk had set him down, and Keith shot him a thankful look.

Shiro's eyes immediately turned concerned, and he lifted his hand to Keith's forehead, "Holy shit, Keith…"

Keith coughed weakly in response, and Hunk quickly scooped him back up into his arms where he immediately curled into a ball and tried not to throw up.

"We need to get him back to the RV." Shiro ran a hand anxiously through his hair, and the others nodded solemnly, no one quite sure what else to do.

Hunk did his best not to jostle him as they set off back for camp, but the foliage was thick around them, and Keith felt every footfall like a baseball bat to the ribcage.

They kept Haggar with them, carefully guarded by Shiro and Pidge, since killing her seemed cruel, but no one was quite comfortable with simply letting her go.

Lance hurried to walk beside him and Hunk, offering a scrap of cloth to wipe the blood off his neck from where Haggar's knife had scratched him.

Keith accepted it gratefully, and stuck out his other arm in Lance's direction. He wasn't quite sure what he was reaching for, but Lance accepted it anyway, holding his hand as they walked. Pidge shot them a look out of the corner of their eye, but Keith did his best to ignore it.

After about a minute, Shiro glanced over to Keith with a raised eyebrow, "I hate to ask, but what exactly _were_ you doing outside the RV last night?"

"I, uh…" Keith paused to cough loudly, though his attempt to draw pity seemed to fall short as Shiro unleashed his Disappointed Dad Expression, "I was trying to get some fresh air. I wasn't going to go more than three feet from the door, I swear."

Lance and Shiro exchanged a quick look and Lance smirked, squeezing Keith's hand lightly, "I told you he didn't run away."

Shiro nodded seeming relieved, "I suppose I should've believed you."

"I promised I wouldn't do anything impulsive anymore." Keith stared at Lance, observing the way his expression softened almost imperceptibly, "I meant it."

"I know." Lance smiled at Keith reassuringly, but his face quickly morphed in concern as Keith registered a sudden burning in his chest.

Hunk stopped short and gingerly lowered him to the ground as Keith began to cough violently. His insides churned like cake batter in an electric mixer, and Keith couldn't tell if the blood was coming from his lungs or his stomach.

"Keith!" Shiro kneeled beside him, "Are you all right?"

Keith slumped back, exhaustedly wiping a line of blood from his chin, and shook his head slowly. Shiro's expression fell, and he stood to confer with the others. Keith tried to focus on clearing the blood from his windpipe as the others argued around him.

"No, no, no, no, no-" Lance was chanting, his hands over his ears.

"Come on!" Pidge waved their hands around, gesturing to their back pack wildly, "It worked last time!"

"I don't know, Pidge, it seems pretty dangerous…" Hunk scratched his head, leaning on his baseball bat like a cane, "He's much worse than last time-"

"Plus, we don't know how long it will give him! It's not like we have any sort of game plan, or anywhere to go-"

"Oh!" Keith's head shot up, startling the rest of them as his revelation from the night before returned suddenly.

He watched as the others glanced at one another nervously, and Keith rambled on, ignoring the scratchiness of his voice, and the rawness of his throat, "Last night I was thinking about how the tesla coil was gone, and how Lotor recognized the word and I figured it out."

"Keith…" Lance bit his lip uncertainly. Keith spit a mouthful of blood on the ground in response and the others winced, but thankfully shut up.

"It's here," Keith continued on excitedly, "The lab. They're the only ones who could've-"

He trailed off as Lance glanced sharply behind him, his gun in the air faster than Keith could blink, "You."

Everyone turned to stare at Haggar unexpectedly, who simply raised an imperious eyebrow, "What?"

"You reacted to the word lab." Lance stood, and walked slowly over to her, his gun still aimed at her head, "You mentioned something about Keith being bait earlier... For whom?"

Haggar eyed Lance's gun dubiously, "What's it to you?"

"Look, bitch." Lance crouched down in front of her, his gun moving from her head to her abdomen, "That lab is our only hope to save Keith. If you know even a modicum of information, you will tell it to us now, or so help me I will fill you so full of bullets you'll bleed lead."

Haggar met his eyes without emotion, and Lance shot her in the shoulder.

"What-"

"Lance!?"

Haggar grit her teeth but didn't scream, and Lance leaned in closer, "Bleed. Lead."

Haggar met his eyes with a low cackle, "You're as messed up as I am… The lab, as you call it, is the only thing standing in the way of the new world order-"

"Yeah, yeah, crazy town." Everyone jumped as Lance cut her off impatiently, "Where is it?"

"I will lead you there." Haggar narrowed her eyes, "I don't trust you not to kill me if I tell you the information."

"No one is killing anyone." Shiro held his hands up, but then squinted, "Unless you try to hurt Keith again, because-"

"Okay, can everyone stop talking about killing for a minute here?" Hunk piped up, twisting his baseball bat nervously in his hands, "Why don't we just go to the lab, and no one has to die? Easy peasy."

"I don't trust her." Pidge folded their arms, "What if it's a trap?"

"We have to." Everyone turned to Lance in surprise as he rose to his feet, still glaring daggers at Haggar, "We don't have a choice. Look at him."

They all turned to Keith, who was barely able to hold himself up. He coughed again and Pidge kneeled down next to him, "What do _you_ want to do?"

"I-" Keith glanced around at them all, each of them obviously tired, beaten down by constant stress and worry, and couldn't help but feel that this was all his fault. The last thing Keith wanted was to cause them any more trouble.

This whole ordeal had dragged on long enough, and the only calculable result it had produced was a long drawn out stream of torture for both him and those around him. When he really thought about it, Keith wouldn't mind a quiet death.

Dying slowly in the back of a cluttered RV wasn't the flashy going-out-with-a-bang sort of thing that everyone secretly admired - and never wanted - but something much more rare in a world where being eaten alive was a daily concern. Peace.

"I…" Keith began, glancing around the group, at Shiro and Pidge's concern, at Hunk's anxiety, at Lance's desperation, "I think-"

He stopped suddenly and doubled over in pain; it felt as if someone had stabbed a hot poker into his abdomen and was slowly swirling it around. As he curled up on the ground he registered shouts above him, but couldn't quite tell who they came from.

In the back of his mind he noticed a small prick in his shoulder and ice shot through his veins like someone had injected him with liquid nitrogen.

"Keith!" He struggled to find the source of Lance's voice, but he couldn't quite seem to control his own body.

His memory cut out there as he passed out cold. The next thing he knew he opened his eyes to the back of a strange car, Lance kneeling before him and Hunk at the wheel.

"Oh thank god." Lance rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, "I-I thought you weren't going to wake up-"

"Lance!" Hunk shouted from the front seat, "Focus on keeping him still!"

"Right." Lance braced his hands on Keith's chest as the car took a corner at about 50 mph.

Keith realized they were in the city as he glanced through the window and watched as Hunk nearly clipped a street sign, "Wh-"

"You passed out." Lance bit his lip, "We panicked when you wouldn't wake up and Pidge gave you another dose of their formula. It didn't work as well as last time so now Haggar is leading us to the lab."

Keith's eyes shot wide and he struggled to sit up but Lance pushed him back down, "Don't. She's in the other car with Shiro and Pidge. Shiro's still convinced it's a trap."

Hunk took another corner at an acute angle, and Lance swore. Keith grimaced as he was jostled around, and Lance shot him an apologetic look. "I swear she's taking us the most convoluted route possible."

"Wouldn't you?" Keith tried to laugh, but ended up hacking up half a lung as Lance watched on horrified.

Keith could feel every cell in his body slowly dying. His brain felt like it was on fire, and it was all he could do to keep from passing out again. He focused heavily on Lance's voice as his mind dulled in and out of focus like a broken camera lens.

"No, no, no. Hey Keith, buddy, stay with me." Lance slapped his face lightly, and Keith caught his hand, squeezing it softly.

Lance laughed shortly, resting his head lightly on Keith's chest, "Why the hell are _you_ still comforting _me_?"

They stayed like that for a few minutes and Keith felt the urge to pull Lance up onto the seat beside him, if only he could force his limbs to cooperate.

"Shhh, just breathe." Lance lifted a hand to run his fingers through Keith's hair, "It's okay, just breathe."

Hunk was crying in the front seat. Keith could hear his quiet sobs clear as day; it was as if his senses were on overdrive, like they were trying to make up for the way the rest of his body was behaving.

Keith attempted in vain to concentrate on his own breathing for a moment, but felt the edge of his mind slip maddeningly into the abyss, and decided that it was time. He'd never get another chance.

"Lance," Keith muttered lowly, his head lolling as Hunk continued to drive like a maniac, "Lance."

"Here." Lance had tears dripping from his chin, and Keith was relieved to feel them as they stained his shirt, "I'm right here, everything is going to be okay."

The car lurched yet again, and Lance cursed, bracing his hands against Keith's chest to keep him from being jostled.

"Lance."

"Dude," Lance chuckled hoarsely, though it sounded to Keith more like a sob, "I'm right here, what?"

Keith raised a shaking hand to his face, marveling at the way his eyes shone even in the dim and dingy interior of their stolen car, and Lance raised a hand to cup his, holding it against his cheek.

"Lance," Keith took a deep breath and dove in head first, "from the moment I-"

"Nope." Lance shook his head softly, "Shut up mullet."

Keith let out an exasperated breath and tried again, "You idiot, I lo-"

"No." Lance let go of his hand and leaned down, touching their foreheads together softly, "Don't."

"I'm trying…" Keith trailed off, frowning, "We're having a moment!"

"We can have a moment when you're healed." Lance glared at him, and Keith had never wanted to kiss someone so much in his life.

"Oh my god!" Hunk honked the horn, looking about ready to tear his own hair out, "Are you two seriously arguing right now?!"

Lance laughed weakly, and Keith did his best to pout despite the liquid pain flowing through his veins.

"In all seriousness though," Lance whispered, keeping his forehead against Keith's and lifting both hands up to cup his face gently, "You _will_ make it out of this, and then everything is going to go back to normal."

Keith's heart sank, but he said nothing more. He could feel his body shutting down, and he desperately wanted to soak up the most of the moment.

He cursed inwardly as, not a minute later, the car swerved again and suddenly pulled to a rough stop. Keith felt his heart halt along with it as he caught sight of the large building through the window.

It looked like an old half rusted warehouse; the tall chain link fence surrounding it was topped with barbed wire and reinforced with metal plating from the inside. It looked less like a laboratory and more like a slaughter house, but Keith wasn't exactly picky.

"Uh," Lance was staring out the window, "Does Pidge have bolt cutters? Shouldn't we be _politely_ asking the people who are about to save Keith if we can _please_ enter the premises?"

"I guess there's no time." Hunk glanced back at them, tapping at the steering wheel nervously, and Lance patted Keith's back as he curled up in a ball, clutching his head between his knees.

Pidge made short work of the fence, and as they pulled up to the front entrance, Lance hopped out and carefully lifted Keith into his arms as the others approached the doors cautiously, searching for any signs of an ambush. Nothing came out to greet them, hostile or otherwise, so Shiro began to pick the lock.

"This better be the right place." Lance glared at Haggar, who stood off to the side with Pidge's crossbow at her back.

Her shoulder was still bleeding from where Lance had shot her, though if she was in any pain it didn't register on her face. Keith was suddenly absurdly jealous of her level of tolerance.

Haggar simply sneered at him in response, and Lance turned as if to shield him from view as Keith deliriously trailed a finger along his collarbone.

They all jumped guiltily as the lock clicked, and Shiro cracked the door open slowly. Nothing attacked them, so they entered the building cautiously, keeping Haggar in front.

Keith couldn't tell if it was his own delusional mind making the hallway look dark and ominous, or if it actually just looked like a set from a horror movie. He supposed belatedly that it _was_ rather fitting, considering they were _in_ a horror movie.

"This is too easy…" Pidge whispered, and Keith couldn't help but agree.

Lance nearly dropped him as a voice rang out through the shadows in front of them.

"Who's there!?"

"Uh," Shiro stepped forward, holding his hands up in surrender, "We come in peace?"

A figure emerged suddenly from the darkness, reminding Keith vaguely of the first time they'd seen Lotor, and Shiro's reflexes reacted faster than his brain.

The two grappled for a moment before the stranger tossed Shiro to the ground like a ragdoll, planting a foot in the center of his chest. Pidge and Hunk raised their weapons, but before they had the chance to do anything, the person gasped and froze in her attack.

"Shiro?!" She stepped back, her white hair catching the dim light as Shiro coughed weakly from the floor, "Takashi Shirogane?"

"Present?"

"It's…" the woman stepped into view, "It's me, don't you remember?"

Shiro's eyes lit up, "Allura!"

"Wait…" Keith's brain clicked and he raised his head weakly, trying to catch sight of her, "You're… you're that girl that dumped him!"

Keith's mind flashed with images of Shiro blushing and stuttering, of them sitting on the floor of his room with a pint of ice cream at three in the morning as he worked through his feelings. She'd been his classmate at the Garrison, before she'd been pulled out of school to take care of her sick father, which Keith suddenly realized must have been a cover.

He burst into hysterical laughter, and Lance struggled to retain his hold around Keith as he curled into himself, only stopping when he began to cough up more blood.

"Oh my," Allura's eyes widened, "Is he-"

"Bitten." Lance replied shortly, his eyes not leaving Keith's face.

"Dying, actually, which we were hoping you could help us with." Shiro's tone was light, but his voice was strained, and he looked like he could physically feel Keith's pain.

"Wait," Allura glanced around at them all for the first time, quickly catching sight of Haggar, "What is she doing here!"

Allura shrank back, just as another figure emerged out of the darkness, "Allura, I told you not to go on without-"

He caught sight of Haggar too and gasped, his hand going to the pistol at his waist.

"It's alright!" Shiro held up his hands in a peaceful gesture, "We brought her as a prisoner, she tried to kill Keith. Please… we really need your help."

Allura glanced between Haggar and Keith, who continued to drool blood on Lance's shirt, and finally settled on Shiro, "You don't understand. She started all of this."

The others glanced at one another in confusion as she pointed a finger at Haggar accusingly, "My father was helping the military to create a new form of bio weapon, one that would turn living humans into the walking dead, and she and her anarchist group released it before we had the chance to create a cure!"

Haggar cackled ominously, "This world was rotten, we were just trying to bring forth its true colors."

Allura glared at her, "My father devoted his life to creating the cure, and he died trying to protect his work." She turned to Shiro accusingly, "and now you've led _her_ directly into the only place capable of completing it."

They all stared at her in mute horror, before Lance spoke up shakily, "Wait, I thought you guys already have the cure?"

Allura winced, "We're… working on it. So far we've only been able to cure those who are infected before they turn, but…" She glanced at Keith sadly, "The faster the dose is administered, the more likely they are to survive, and even if it were right after the bite it's still a fifty-fifty chance-"

She cut off as Haggar dove forward suddenly, shoving Pidge backward into the wall. She'd had a knife hidden somewhere on her person, and Keith watched as she lunged for Allura as if in slow motion.

"No!" Coran and Shiro shouted simultaneously. Lance's arms tightened around Keith but there wasn't enough time for him to set him down and block the attack.

Pidge aimed their crossbow, but they all flinched as the sound of a gunshot filled the air. Haggar fell as everyone turned to stare at Hunk, who had pulled one of Lance's guns from his holster.

A terse silence fell as Haggar's body crumpled, and then everyone moved at once. Coran had a pistol pointed at Shiro, Pidge and Hunk turned their weapons on Coran, and Allura had jumped between them, wielding a compactable bow staff she'd managed to conjure up.

Lance had backed away toward the doors, still clutching Keith, and Keith was dying to grab his sword, which he suddenly realized, he had left back in the bedroom at the RV the night before.

"Stop! Everyone lower your weapons!" Shiro held his hands up placatingly, looking between both groups, "Killing each other won't solve anything. Please, Allura, we had no idea about any of this... We came here to ask for your help."

"Help? Oh I'm _sure_ ," Coran snorted, "You led our greatest enemy directly into our hideout! Her leader, Zarkon, killed Allura's father!"

Shiro winced, "I had no idea, we just thought that if we brought her here-"

"Where is her group?!" Allura demanded, "She was not alone. There were others trying to destroy the lab as well."

Shiro opened his mouth, hesitating, when Lance spoke up from the back of the room, startling everyone who had forgotten they were there, "Dead."

Allura's eyes narrowed, "What makes you so sure-"

"We saw one being eaten in the street, and then we were attacked by another named Lotor, who told us his father Zarkon had been killed. Earlier today I shot Prorok after he tried to kill Keith, and now…" They all glanced down at Haggar, "So unless there are any more of them wandering around, they're all dead."

Allura exchanged a quick glance with Coran, "That's all of them… But I have a hard time believing this is all over-"

"Well, believe it." Pidge stepped forward, "They kidnapped our friend. Lotor alone nearly killed half of us. We ended them. It's over."

Allura's fierce expression wavered and she turned to Shiro, "If you are lying to us-"

"Allura," Shiro pleaded with her with his eyes, "Please, you know me. We just need your help."

"I…" Allura glanced around at them all pityingly, and Keith continued to cough into Lance's chest.

"Allura, you can't be serious-"

"Coran, it's alright," Allura lowered her bow staff slowly, nodding cautiously at Shiro, "I know some of them from the Garrison. They probably _were_ just trying to help. If they wanted to hurt us they wouldn't have brought their dying friend."

Keith coughed helpfully from the back, and they all watched as the suspicion in Coran's expression receded slightly, "Fine. But I still don't fully trust them."

"That's understandable," Shiro nodded in relief, but grimaced as Lance coughed pointedly, "I hate to ask after all that, but we really do need your help." He gestured behind him, "My brother, Keith. He's dying."

Allura glanced behind him and bit her lip uncertainly, "As I said before, the sooner it's administered, the better it works, how long has he-"

"Two and a half days." Pidge piped up, and Allura and Coran gaped at them.

"That's-that's impossible!" Coran frowned, "Even the slightest bit of zombie venom is lethal within-"

"It's a long story." Shiro sighed, "But we've injected him with our own formula. It worked for a while but now he's declining quickly, and…" Shiro broke off, his voice cracking as his composure crumbled.

Allura grimaced, "Without electricity-"

"What about the tesla coil," Pidge frowned at them, "You guys did take that, right?"

Coran raised an eyebrow at them, "Yes, we did. I've engineered it to hook up to the solar panels out back, but for the most part we haven't been able to figure out how to hook it up to the building's generators."

Pidge and Hunk shot each other a glance, and Pidge spoke up, "Leave that to us. We can go work on that while Allura helps Keith."

Allura still seemed hesitant, "I'm not a doctor, and we only have a bit of the cure left-"

"Please. Allura." Shiro stared at her imploringly, and Keith watched as the hesitation cleared from her face.

Allura nodded, "Fine. I will do what I can. Coran, show them to the generators, we need to get Keith to the operating room as quickly as possible."

As they hurried away, Keith began to seize up.

"Guys!" Lance screamed, and Keith felt as Shiro grabbed a hold of his arms.

The next thing he knew, Keith stared into a blindingly white light as they secured him down onto a hard table. He struggled involuntarily, his grasp on reality slipping as Allura bore down on him. He felt a prick in his arm, and there were hands on his chest as he felt his body seize frighteningly.

"Lance!" Keith cried out, momentarily forgetting himself as his mind and body were smothered by fear and agony, "Shiro!"

"Hold his legs down!"

Keith heard muffled voices in the background of his mind. Everything was a slow motion blur, and he thought he heard someone shouting his name. He took one more shaky breath.

His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves in the ocean as Keith slowly lost the capacity to struggle back to shore.

He saw Hunk and Pidge standing on the sand in front of him, waving like they were still at the track in gym class. He saw Shiro, his prosthetic gone, his hair black. He saw Lance smiling brighter than the sun, beckoning him forward. As Keith watched him, he finally let go.

His last thought as the light in his eyes grew dim was of Lance's smile.

**Lance P.O.V.**

"He's…." Allura stuttered, stumbling back, though all Lance could focus on was Keith's unnervingly still form on the cold table, "I'm so sor-"

"No!" Lance punched the cabinet next to him, feeling savage pleasure as his knuckles burned, "He's not dead yet!"

Images flickered through his mind in rapid succession. He saw Keith sleeping on his desk in class, Keith sprinting ahead of him on the track. Keith's smugly triumphant expression as he was sentenced to detention for throwing an eraser at professor Iverson.

Time fast forwarded and he saw Keith's eyes widening in shock as he registered Lance and Hunk standing on the other end of his sword after months spent thinking they were dead. He saw Keith volunteering for supply runs, him and Keith standing back to back, clearing every zombie in their path.

He saw Keith standing in front of him red and panting, sporting a bite Lance didn't even see yet, Keith swimming in the waterfall, Keith holding that damn syringe, Keith curled up in the corner of the couch looking like death itself.

He saw Keith standing in the rain wearing Lance's jacket, his eyes shut as he felt the rain on his face, Keith spitting a blue skittle on the floor of the car, Keith curling into his side as they drove. He saw Keith staring at him in horror as Haggar's knife pressed into his neck, Keith trying to tell Lance he loved him.

And Lance hadn't even given him the chance. "When you're healed." He'd said. His eyes burned, and he pushed Allura out of the way as he leaned over Keith, struggling to come to terms.

"Lance." Shiro put a hand on his shoulder, and Lance turned to find silent tears streaming down his face, "Give it up."

"No," He choked down an ugly sob, "There has to be something we can do!"

Allura bit her lip, "We would need a defibrillator to even get his heart up and running, and after that we would have to administer the cure in such a large quantity that I'm almost certain his body wouldn't hold out-"

"Well then do it!" Lance was sobbing uncontrollably, "Just, do something!"

He stared at the two of them, confused as to why they weren't moving, why they weren't fixing him.

"Fuck." Lance turned back to Keith, he could barely see his face as his eyes swam with tears, but he grabbed his hand anyway, sobbing grossly as he leaned down to touch his forehead to Keith's.

He saw Keith's smile as if it were tattooed on the back of his eyelids. The first smile that Keith had ever shown him had been back at the Garrison. In gym class, of all places.

Their teacher had chosen to take advantage of the "nice" weather, and Lance was doing his best to ignore the sweltering heat by boasting to Hunk about his throwing skills, trying to talk loud enough for the group of girls nearby to hear him.

He'd heard a snort to his left, and found Keith standing off to the side, alone as usual.

"Oh," Lance turned to him, mirroring his folded arms, "So you think you can do better?"

"Oh, I know I can."

Lance grinned, giddy at the new challenge. He wasn't sure what caused the excited swoop in his chest, especially considering he always lost, but if anything this had been the highlight of his day. Even if he would never admit it in a million years.

"Fine. Let's go, Mullet-Head."

"Mullet Head?"

Lance had rolled his eyes and dragged him over to the field, barely noticing that Pidge and Hunk were the only two people following them.

As they both stretched, Keith had glanced over to him, and Lance stuck out his tongue petulantly. Keith's eyes widened, and he'd let out a quick surprised laugh. Lance was rendered speechless at the way that small smile had transformed his entire face.

Lance always thought Keith was attractive, in a totally non-subjective, totally-part-of-the-healthy-rivalry-thing sort of way, but this laugh, directed at him, made him positively _glow._ And just like that, Lance was a lost cause.

Keith had won the throw, and Lance was determined to blame it on the heat, but that night Lance found he couldn't sleep thinking about that smile, and all he remembered thinking clearly was, "Oh fuck."

Now, as he opened his eyes to Keith's vacant expression he felt something inside him shatter.

"I love you." Lance whispered, choking back a sob, "I love you, you stupid, selfish prick."

He felt a hand on his back, "Get off me Shiro."

"I…" Lance half turned at the sound of Allura's voice, "I know Keith must have meant a lot to you. I lost someone too when all of this first began."

She turned and gestured around the room, "My father, Alfor, owned this laboratory. He was the head scientist."

Lance felt tears dripping from his chin as he continued to cling onto Keith.

"I know it's difficult now, but the sooner you let him go, the easier it will be-"

She cut off as the lights above them flickered. The whole room held its breath as everything went still, and then… Lance's heart stopped as they flickered again, this time staying on. The machines around them all started beeping at once, and Allura gaped at them, hitting a few buttons on the nearest one.

"That's- that's impossible!" Allura glanced around them in amazement, "Coran and I have spent nearly six months trying to fix the generators!"

Shiro smiled weakly, "That's Pidge and Hunk for you-"

"Can you fix him or not?!" Lance bolted upright, grabbing at her arm, "Please, you have to try-"

Allura's eyes widened, and Lance watched her face morph back into game mode, "Grab the shock pads from the cabinet. Shiro put those rubber gloves on and get ready to hold him steady."

She raced over to a machine, hitting buttons at light speed and pulling out a pair of shock paddles, tugging them over to the table.

"We have less than three minutes before we start risking permanent brain damage." Allura rubbed the paddles together as Lance hurriedly stuck on the pads, for once thankful for his high school CPR course, "We'll have to be quick."

Lance swallowed down air, not even feeling the tears anymore as they fell down his face.

"Lance." He jumped as she turned to him, "I need you to grab the syringe and the bottle of green formula from the table over there. As soon as I say, I need you to shoot as much of it as you can directly into his arm. Can you do that?"

Lance nodded hastily, stumbling over to the table. He nearly dropped the bottle as he heard Allura shout, "Clear!"

He whipped around as Keith's body arced frighteningly under the electric shock, and hurried back with the cure.

His hands shook as he filled the needle, his heart jolting along with every shock Allura sent into Keith, and just as he flicked the syringe to force out any air bubbles, he heard Allura shout, "Now!"

He plunged the needle into Keith's arm, and for a moment Lance's heart fell as nothing happened. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it felt as though time had frozen as they all waited for something. Anything.

Finally, just as he'd begun to lose hope, Lance's heart stopped completely as Keith's eyes fluttered open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated just leaving it at that, just letting you all wonder if he woke up alive or as a zombie…
> 
> Buuuut then I realized that I'm a slut for tying up loose ends, so I'll post the epilogue sometime tomorrow.
> 
> I can't tell if I'm satisfied with this chapter or not… a lot happened, and I kind of tied up a few things quickly, so I hope you guys enjoyed it…
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome!


	10. Epilogue

Keith squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness above him, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun. He could hear the hum of cicadas from the trees around him and struggled to remember ever having felt more relaxed in his life.

"Keith?"

"Hm?"

"Wake up."

Keith cracked an eyelid open lazily, and grinned as Lance's face floated above his. At seeing Keith's smile his expression immediately relaxed, and Keith knew Lance still worried every time he closed his eyes.

From what the others told him, he'd been dead on the table for nearly five minutes.

"Hey," Keith blinked up at him, raising a hand to cup his cheek, "I'm here. I'm okay."

"I know," Lance sighed and rested his head on Keith's shoulder, going back to piling ripped up grass on his chest, "I just still can't believe it."

Keith twisted a strand of Lance's hair around his finger, reveling in the feeling of the wind on his face, of Lance curled up beside him, and vowed never to take anything for granted ever again.

They were lying lazily together in an open field; Keith had grown tired of being cooped up in the lab, despite Allura's insistence that he should be resting, so Lance had suggested they get some fresh air.

Everyone else had been all for the idea. According to Pidge they were being "impossibly grosser than usual," and Allura and Coran, who hadn't even known them from before, had agreed emphatically.

Keith glanced down at Lance, who had abandoned his grass pile and was staring back up at him with a soft expression. Keith bit back a smile as Lance leaned forward, and his mind flashed back to the moment he'd woken up.

His entire body felt like he'd been cut up and sewn back together molecule by molecule, but the only thing his tired mind had registered as the room came slowly into focus was Lance's terrified expression hovering over him.

"L-Lance?" He'd whispered, and watched as Lance's face lit up.

The next thing he knew, he couldn't breathe again, though this time it was due to Lance's lips pressed against his, and his arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

His head swam and his lungs burned, but Keith clung on for dear life. He felt Lance smile nervously against his lips, and Keith forgot how to think as his heart burst into a million pieces.

"Lance! Oh my god, Lance get off of him, he's turning blue!"

Lance had pulled away quickly after this revelation, and Keith fell bonelessly back into the pillows. Wondering what the fuck. Just happened.

"I'm dead." He muttered to himself, feeling Lance's fingers card through his hair gently, "I'm dead and I'm in heaven."

"Pfft." He heard Pidge's snort from somewhere to his left, "Like you'd get into heaven."

Keith turned his head to glare at them weakly, "Maybe I snuck in, I don't know, but I'm certainly not alive right now."

"Is he alright?" Keith heard Hunk ask and a vaguely familiar person came into view.

"Physically yes." Allura frowned, "I take it he doesn't normally act like this?"

"No, no, he's usually this difficult." Lance shook his head in amusement, lowering his hand to cup his cheek gently, and Keith stared at him in shock, still half convinced he was in a coma.

"Wait…" Keith could feel the cogs grinding in his mind, and cleared his scratchy throat as his brain came to terms, "I just kissed…"

He trailed off, watching as Lance blushed furiously and everyone else burst into laughter, "Guys," Hunk wiped a tear form his eye, "I think Keith just blew his own mind."

"Shut up, Hunk!" Lance glanced back at Keith, "And technically I kissed you, which means so far I'm winning one to nothing."

Keith grinned as he heard Pidge groan in the background, "I guess I'll just have to even the score."

"Nope, not right now." Shiro had quickly put a hand over Lance's face, pushing him back, and Keith pouted even as Lance's hand slid into his. "We have a lot to tell you first."

Keith was brought back to the present as Lance's lips pressed lightly against his. It was a much more chaste kiss than the first one they'd shared, and Keith's mind swam with the simple bliss that accompanied it.

Somewhere in the week that Keith had been awake and recovering, Lance had slowly begun to stop treating every moment like it might be their last, and Keith was secretly relieved.

Not that he minded Lance ambushing him in the hallway after every checkup with Allura, or sticking to him like glue at every possible opportunity, but they definitely deserved some peace after all they'd been through.

Keith deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to angle their faces as Lance's hand slid under his shirt. Keith drank up the moment like a drowning man, filling his lungs to capacity until he felt like he was ready to burst.

It was like warm fire on a winter night, he felt the flickering of the flames in his lungs as Lance ran his hands over his chest, his heart glowing like a living ember.

Lance slid on top of him, and Keith grinned as he realized they were both going to be covered in grass stains when they returned.

Keith's hands moved slowly down to the edge of Lance's shirt, tracing and mapping the muscles in his back along the way. He sucked in a surprised breath as Lance's mouth moved slowly along his jaw, moving to settle on the curve of his neck, and Keith groaned as Lance bit down lightly.

This was all he'd ever dreamed of and more. After years spent watching Lance in class, and competing for his attention with every girl on the planet, Keith felt overwhelmed with the idea that Lance returned his feelings; that he was currently sitting on top of Keith, _biting his neck_.

Fearing yet _another_ hickey that Pidge would poke fun of him for, Keith tugged on Lance's hair lightly, bringing their lips back together. After a moment he felt Lance sigh into the kiss and knew what was coming as he pulled back slightly.

"I-I just still can't believe you're cured…" Lance mumbled against his mouth, and Keith nearly groaned, "Not only that, you're immune…"

"And," Keith pecked his lips, "my blood can help cure other people."

All the stress and pent up emotions from the past few days had taken a toll on all of them, and every once in a while, Lance in particular needed a casual reminder that he was safe. That everything was fine.

Keith had a hard time believing it himself, but he knew it was ten times harder for Lance, who was still struggling from the devastation of his family. They still had quite a bit of work ahead of them, but Keith was more than happy to help him along.

They had all struggled to come to terms with everything, and Keith for one had to have Allura explain the whole story to him more than once as his addled mind caught up.

Between the zombie virus originally being a bio weapon, Haggar and her followers releasing it to the public, them unknowingly stopping her from destroying the lab, and of course, Keith being turned into a walking cure… nothing had quite managed to click in yet in his mind.

But, Keith thought, as he sighed in contentment, curling his fingers through Lance's hair, they now had all the time in the world.

"We're going to have to leave soon." Lance pouted, drawing swirls on Keith's chest.

Keith smirked, still toying with his hair, "You're just afraid of catching some sort of zombie STD aren't you?"

"Honestly? Kinda. But that's not the point." Lance rolled his eyes, "Pidge wants us packed by four."

Keith sighed, knowing it wasn't fair to keep them waiting. They'd searched for nearly six months for a cure for Matt, and now that they had one…

"Fine," Keith pecked his lips, pulling them both to their feet, "But just so you know, we have dibs on the bedroom."

Lance snorted, "You guilt tripped Shiro didn't you?"

Keith grinned, pulling Lance in by his waist for another quick kiss, "Of course I did. Dying has to have some perks, doesn't it?"

Lance smacked him on the shoulder, but Keith was relieved to see that he didn't tense up anymore at the mention of his death.

"Hmm," Keith grinned, touching his forehead lightly to Lance's, "You know from where I'm standing, it almost looks like I'm the one doing all the work in this relationship."

Lance's jaw dropped, "Oh come on, I convinced Shiro to let me stay in your room."

"Yeah, after I emerged from a coma and kissed you." Keith pecked his lips to reinforce his point.

"No!" Lance shoved him playfully, "I kissed you! I literally kissed you and then said "I'm winning one to nothing.""

"Nope, don't remember. Didn't happen." Keith pulled him in again as Lance rolled his eyes, muttering mutinously.

They pulled apart quickly as they heard a quiet shuffling from their right and turned to find a zombie stumbling toward them through the trees.

As the zombie approached them Lance lazily clicked the safety off his gun, barely paying it any attention, and Keith placed a hand on his wrist, "It's okay, I got this."

Lance nodded, stowing away his gun, and Keith slipped his sword carefully from its sheath, grinning as he stepped forward. He'd missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psssh of course he lived, I'm a slut for klance lmao…
> 
> (not gonna lie though, I did debate actually killing him for a long time, so there's that, but I guess you guys can tell by now I'm an unreliable author)
> 
> Also, I sort of left this open ended in case I ever want to continue it… I do have an idea or two about Matt, and of course, this story is woefully lacking a certain rock girlfriend of Hunk's… but who knows. I have to get through my new story first…
> 
> Speaking of which… The first chapter is now up! It's called Unfinished Business and it's a klance grim reaper au based on the Twilight Zone…
> 
> So check it out if you want… if not, I hope you enjoyed this story, and as always feedback is appreciated!


	11. Q

**Not an actual chapter! Sorry!**

**I was just wondering, if I did just so happen to want to write a sequel to this story - that may or may not be about their quest to find Matt - would you guys prefer it to remain in Keith's point of view, or Lance's?**

**I have more experience with Keith's, and his personality is easier for me to write, but I can also see how maybe it would be a good thing to see the situation from Lance's perspective**

**Anyway, I hope to hear from you guys :)**

**\- MDL**

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story! 
> 
> Just FYI, this fic is inspired by fanart from @elentori-art on Tumblr


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